Snapshots
by bodyandsoul
Summary: A series of one-shots about our favorite group of genetically-altered supernatural teens.
1. Daydream Believer

**A/N: So I've finally conquered my phobia of letting other people read my writing…take a look, and please review. Don't be afraid to critique, I'm interested in improving my writing, not saving my ego. :) Since these are all going to be one-shots, I'll post a quick note at the beginning of each to put them in context for you. This is a songfic that's based off of "Daydream Believer" by The Monkees and is set five years after The Reckoning. This was a random idea I had one afternoon, typed it up in about twenty minutes, had my cousin (THANK YOU!!!) review it and then stuck it up here before I lost my nerve. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!**

**All the one-shots that I'll be posting (unless otherwise specified), will be in Chloe's POV, and aren't related to each other. These are just little random scenes that wandered into my head (usually during a boring lecture) and that I scribbled down. They don't really lead anywhere and can be short, like this one, but there was something about each of them that tickled my fancy and interested me. If I ever post a one-shot that's related to any of the others, I'll put the same title, but with "Part 2" or something to show it's related.**

Disclaimer: I'm not Kelley Armstrong and I don't own Darkest Powers. Shocking, I know…

* * *

I'd noticed the date first thing that morning. Cradling a cup of strong tea, I stared at the black borders I'd drawn around that square on the calendar. Black to represent the senseless deaths and destruction of years of research that might have done a lot of good in better hands. In a red pen I had written "5 years" within the square. Five years since we'd gotten our lives back.

The black borders were mostly for Andrew and Margaret; they'd both been killed trying to take down Diane Enright. After witnessing her mother's death, and before destroying the servers and external hard drives that housed all the scientific data, Tori had found the name of her biological father. Divorced and childless, David had been only too happy to hear from her. The last postcard I had received had been sent from the Amalfi coast, a year ago.

We were scattered. Kit had taken his boys and faded into the background, somewhere. Simon had e-mailed me a few times after they'd gotten settled, but I'd never heard from Derek. Derek, who had kissed me like the world was ending before we'd gotten separated in the fighting and who had left without saying goodbye.

As for me, I had gone home, back to face my father with Aunt Lauren. I didn't pay too much attention to how she explained my "misdiagnosis" to him, but the end result was that I'd been welcomed home with relief and joy. Settling back into a normal life was hard, especially with powers that had taken a few years to get under control. I missed my friends every day. I had never stopped feeling lonely without them.

"You're up early," my dad commented, hauling a suitcase behind him down the marble-tiled hall. He parked it next to the front door and came back to the kitchen, helping himself to the cereal I'd left on the counter.

"Couldn't sleep."

"I'm heading to Shanghai for a few weeks," he informed me, adding milk and spooning up a bite. "Phil's got the bills covered. Do you need any more money for anything?"

I smiled at the name; Phil was my father's much-too-handsome assistant. I'd been seeing him casually for almost a year. He was a great guy, but his kisses never rocked my world like that single, desperate kiss from Derek had.

"Earth to Chloe…"

"No, I've got plenty." We both knew he'd leave a few hundred in an envelope on the counter, just in case. Settling down at the table, I shook open the newspaper. A tiny square of white paper fluttered into my lap. I picked it up.

_Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings_, was scrawled in precise writing across it.

"What's that?" my dad asked, filching the business section.

"No idea," I said, wondering privately if I should be concerned, then shrugging it off and diving into the Entertainment section.

Later, after my dad had left, my cell phone rang and Trina – a fellow theatre arts major – insisted I come and watch a new movie with her. The movie was decent but sadly lacking in originality. I tried to convince myself that my dislike didn't have anything to do with the character who turned into a wolf during full moons. It didn't work.

Trina chattered cheerfully on the way home. She was my lifesaver; in the early days when I'd returned to A.R. Gurney, traumatized and friendless, she had taken me under her wing and coaxed me out of my shell. She made me promise to call her the next day for a lunch date and waited until the doorman opened the door for me before driving away.

Tim, our doorman, called the elevator for me and waited until I was in before going back to his post. The soft rushing noise as I rode up to the penthouse was familiar and I relaxed; even after a few years, going out to a movie was still a little stressful. I spent way too much time watching the people around us, always afraid of seeing someone I didn't want to see again, hoping to see a few faces that I did.

As the doors opened, I got my key ready, but froze when I saw the note stuck on the door. After a quick check of the hall, I kept my keys pointed outwards; I wasn't any taller, but self-defence classes had at least taught me how to take care of myself. The writing was the same as the note this morning.

_The six o'clock alarm would never ring, but it rings and I rise_.

"What the hell is this?" My voice echoed down the hall, and I quickly yanked the note free. I read it again, shoving my key into the lock, hurriedly shutting myself into the condo. When the door was locked behind me and the alarm set, I relaxed, laughing at myself.

We had only moved in a few weeks ago, so the notes could be from someone who thought the previous owners were still living there. I was being silly, thinking the innocent words meant something. I tossed them both in the trash and got myself a bottle of water.

When the phone rang as I was closing the fridge, I jumped a mile, echoes of Derek's voice coming back to me. "You're as skittish as a kitten," he'd said. That much hadn't changed. I was still easily startled, but now I had a brown belt in jujitsu. Woe to the idiot who snuck up behind me or grabbed me now.

I let the machine pick it up. It was Phil, letting me know my dad had just gotten onto his flight and asking if I wanted to grab dinner later. I thought about answering, but I didn't feel like going out, so I didn't answer and spent the rest of the night working on my notes for a group project due later that month.

My alarm rang at six the next morning and it took a huge effort of will to drag myself out of bed, reminded of the words on the note from the day before. After a breakfast of cereal, the limit of my culinary skills, I opened the newspaper and another note landed in my lap.

_Wipe the sleep out of my eyes, my shavin' razor's cold and it stings._

The same writing again, but the words tickled something in my mind. I felt a chill creep over my arms when I saw an arrow that directed me to turn the note over.

_Go see Tim._ Was this some sort of weird scavenger hunt set up by Trina? I totally wouldn't put it past her. Grinning, I threw a sweater over my tank top, pulled on a pair of jeans and stuffed my bare feet into my running shoes. I checked to make sure I had my keys and some cash and took the stairs two at a time to get to the lobby.

"Hey, Tim!" I called, jogging over to the desk.

He looked up with a smile. "And good morning to you, too, Chloe."

I thrust the note at him with an apologetic smile. "What is this?"

He studied it, and handed me an envelope, nodding thoughtfully. "He said to give you this."

"He? What he? Phil?" Was this some weird flirtation thing? I ripped into the envelope, curious but not worried.

_You once thought of me as a white knight on a steed._ Huh? I turned it over and saw the next clue. _Go to Starbucks._

I looked helplessly at Tim. We hadn't been there long and I didn't drink coffee.

"Where's the nearest Starbucks?"

"Just across the street and down a block," he said, and I took off through the doors, the sights and sounds of morning traffic hitting me as I stepped into the sunlight.

The smell of roasted coffee was heavy in the air as I pushed into the bustling coffee shop. I made my way up to the counter, wondering why the gangly, pimply guy was smiling like he knew me.

"Miss Saunders?" he asked, holding out another envelope. My eyes widened, but I reached for it and ripped it open, managing to give myself a paper cut. Sticking my finger in my mouth with a wince, I read the next line, that sense of familiarity hitting me harder now. I knew these words. How did I know these words?

_Now you know how happy I can be, oh, and our good times start and end._ I knew the drill by now. _Bus station._

Bus station, Starbucks…The words. Everything dimmed a little for a second. I knew those words now. My heart started to hammer and I suddenly felt weak. The barista came around the counter, a look of concern on his face and a thermos of hot chocolate in one hand.

"Miss? Are you ok?" He had to touch my shoulder to get my attention, and handed me the silver tube emblazoned with their name and logo. "He said to give you this. It's paid for."

I took it blankly and stared at it for a minute. The barista had to go back behind the counter and serve the next person in line but he kept casting me worried looks. I read the note again and through the rushing in my ears, I knew I had to go, and God help the fool who got in my way.

I jumped into a cab that was waiting outside. The cabbie was friendly enough and he obeyed my request for speed like his life depended on it. Once we got to the station, I tossed him a twenty, not waiting for the change as I scrambled out of the backseat.

"Miss, wait!" he yelled after me, holding out another envelope. This was surreal. My hands were shaking as I took it, sticking the thermos under my arm to hold it while I opened the flap, carefully this time.

_Without dollar one to spend, but how much, baby, do we really need?_ My shaking hands dropped it twice before I managed to flip it over, desperate for the next instructions.

_The park across the street, under the tree by the swings. _

_You're almost there._

I danced impatiently at the corner, swearing under my breath until the "Walk" sign flashed, and then I ran through the wrought-iron gates.

Children played everywhere while their mothers watched and chatted amongst themselves. I stretched up on my toes and searched frantically for the playground, breaking into a jog as soon as I spotted it. The red metal frame supported six swings, all occupied by screaming, laughing kids.

A white square at the base of a huge tree caught my eye. Someone had propped an envelope against a jutting root. I didn't run now that I was so close. The last note had the most writing of all of them, words strung together in sentences I'd recognize in my sleep.

_Cheer up sleepy Jean, oh, what can it mean to a daydream believer and homecoming queen._ And the back. _Turn around._

The thermos dropped to the ground. A huge smile bloomed across my face as I stood there in the bright spring sunshine, sensing a familiar presence behind me.

"I've missed you so much," I whispered, and he spun me around and kissed me like the world was ending again.


	2. EyeChat

**A/N: Oddly enough, I wrote this before the two new chapters were posted, but now that they're up, I guess I might as well put this one out there, too. If you liked it, review. If you think I shouldn't give up my day job, review. I won't beg, but I'd appreciate the feedback. Thanks!! As for the setting, I guess this would be at the safe house sometime after the little convo Chloe had with Gwen.**

Disclaimer: I'm a student. I'm lucky to own a pencil and a binder, never mind Darkest Powers. Yeah, Kelley Armstrong's still got the rights to that locked up tight…

* * *

Tori was quiet that night. She didn't even fix herself a plate, just dropped into a chair at the dining room table and tore apart a bun until only the crumbs were left. I ducked my head, trying to catch her eye. When it didn't work, I tried again, which I think had the unfortunate effect of making me look like one of the bobble-head dogs. Andrew and Simon cast a few odd looks my way. Derek just looked mildly curious when he could be bothered to look up from his plate.

She knew I was trying to eye-chat her, and she waited until everyone was busy talking about something else before she'd look at me.

I raised a brow. _You ok?_

She looked away, her face set. _No._

I frowned. _What happened?_

Her head shook slightly and she pressed her lips together. _I don't want to talk about it._

"I hate when girls do that," Simon commented, ripping a chunk off of his own bun. Derek tsked and took it away. Simon shrugged and pulled another bun out from under his napkin with a triumphant look. "You're worse than a grandmother," he grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Derek as he pointedly took a huge bite.

"Hate when we do what?" I widened my eyes innocently, ignoring the mini battle of wills.

"Your eye thingy."

I looked at Derek in mock panic. "What's wrong with my eyes?" He filched two more meatballs out of the serving dish and ignored me. Probably sulking over the grandmother comment, I thought with a petty sense of enjoyment.

"It's like it another language," Simon griped. Andrew forked up a bite of mashed potatoes and smiled.

Tori pushed away from the table, striding through the door with her face averted. Oh, boy. I knew what that meant.

"Tori?" Andrew called after her, but she didn't answer. He looked around at us while he was getting up. "Did anything happen-"

"I'll talk to her." Good job genius. Might as well go play Russian roulette with a fully loaded pistol. I abandoned my delicious-looking plate that I had barely touched with regret. I felt three pairs of clueless male eyes on me as I hung a right and jogged up the stairs, heading for the room next to mine. I heard Simon ranting on in the dining room as I went, something about Rubik's Cubes being easier to figure out than women.

The sun was setting, and the upstairs hallway was all shadows. The door to Tori's room was shut, but something was obviously wrong and if Tori didn't want anyone in her business she would have chucked a lightning bolt at me when I raised my eyebrows at her before. I shuddered at the thought. I liked my eyebrows.

"It's me," I answered after knocking and being told where I could shove it.

The door whooshed open but Tori blocked the doorway. "Why does everyone always say that?"

I shrugged and started walking into the room, figuring that either she'd get out of my way or else someone would have to catch me as I flew over the banister. My gamble paid off; she let me by, closing and locking the door behind me.

"So what's up?" I asked, making myself at home on the foot of her bed. The covers and pillow were wrinkled from where she had been lying.

She didn't move from in front of the door, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"Tori?" I made my voice as gentle as I could. "What happened?"

A completely incongruous giggle erupted from behind her hand, momentarily stunning me, at least until I realized that she wasn't really laughing. I've seen so many old comedy routines where you have to slap someone to snap them out of hysterics, and it crossed my mind that I wouldn't dare to raise a hand to someone who was taller than I was and could probably incinerate me on the spot if she got too angry.

"S-s-s-sorry," she sputtered, stumbling over to the bed, tears streaming from her eyes as she kept laughing, one arm wrapped around her waist. "I can't- I can't stop."

I made room for her, anxiously wondering what the hell had happened that could so completely unravel Tori like this. Her mother hadn't been around since that episode at the warehouse; as far as I knew there wasn't anyone else that could provoke this kind of reaction from her.

"It's ok," was the only thing I could think of to say at that moment. After a quick deliberation, I put my hand on her shoulder and the sick laughter suddenly morphed into the tears that had been threatening during dinner.

"What's wrong with me?" she choked out, miraculously allowing my hand to stay on her shoulder.

"Did something happen?" I wasn't so afraid of her now; Tori showing fear humanized her. It took a minute, but finally she composed herself enough to tell me what had set her off.

"I checked my e-mail before dinner," she said in a soft voice, staring fixedly at the geometric patterns on the rug. "I had one from my dad."

_Which one?_ I thought reflexively, then got angry at myself for being so dense.

Her voice thickened again and she stopped, swallowing hard once, twice, before she continued. "He said he was worried about me, that he's been worried since I called him. He thinks I've cracked up completely, thinks I'm off my meds and having "an episode"."

She smiled thinly, her eyes roaming the carpet until she seemed to settle on the blue square. "He wants me to call him, tell him where I am so he can help me. He said that he's always thought of me as his daughter-" and her words caught in her throat and she doubled forward, her hands covering her face. "Oh, God."

What is there to say to someone at a time like this? Even Hallmark hasn't figured out a tasteful card to tell your kid you're not really their parent after all. Reaching out to her was not even a conscious thought. I put a cautious arm around her, half expecting to have it returned to me in sections, and she flinched at the contact but didn't pull away.

"So he's not your dad?" Now didn't seem like the time to tell her I'd already known that for a while, thanks to the demi-demon.

Dark hair swung back and forth as she shook her head, her face still in her hands. "No. Apparently he married my mom when I was a baby." A pathetic sniffle. "They never told me, never told my sister."

"What else did he say?"

"That he loves me like he loves Vanessa and that my mom hasn't been the same since I left. He begged me to call, said we'd work this out, that they'd find me the best doctors."

I didn't want to ask, but I had to. "Did you answer?"

She didn't respond, but she finally lifted her face up, tear-stained and flushed. "He doesn't deserve an answer."

Ah. "I'm sorry."

A sardonic smile, a little flash of her usual attitude. "You sound like wolfie now."

I laughed. "I do, don't I?" With a bone-deep sigh she sprawled backwards on the comforter.

"You sound like Derek, my dad isn't my dad and my mom has him convinced that my powers are psychotic episodes. What a mess."

"Are you going to be ok with all of this?"

She didn't answer for a long time and I wondered if she'd fallen asleep. When I twisted to look at her face, she was pondering the ceiling thoughtfully.

"Eventually. My dad betrayed me when he didn't believe me."

"In his defence, he thinks that you're bi-polar."

I expected her to yell or throw something or kill me, or do all three at once, but instead she let her eyes close, her face etched with sadness. "I know. He's trying to save me, but he'll just get me killed."

Someone chose that moment to knock, and I hopped off the bed to unlock the door.

"Everything ok in here?" Derek asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"What you're really asking is if your precious is still in one piece, right, wolfie?"

My blush arrived on cue. "What that translates to is "Thank you, _Derek_, for being kind enough to check on us to make sure we didn't need anything, right, Tori?"

"Mmfph."

"_Right_, Tori?" A touch of menace in my tone and she turned her head towards the door, smiling in an alarming sweet way.

"Thanks ever so much," she said with a British accent, and I sighed, giving up. The two of them fought like cats and dogs, or maybe Krakens and velociraptors was more like it. And no, I'm not specifying who's who. Nice try, though.

A grin quirked his lips at her snarky reply. "I left your plate in the microwave," he said to me, abruptly pushing off the doorframe and heading for the stairs.

Once the door was closed again, Tori rolled over and propped her chin on her hands. "So I've got a biological father walking around somewhere," she said pensively, a forefinger tapping her cheek. "That makes sense with what Gwen said, actually."

"What did she say?" Apparently I was cast as the straight man for tonight's comedy hour.

"That I was too strong for a regular witch. I said that they might have done something to my powers, but she said she knows a mixed blood spellcaster whose powers are like mine."

I played dumb. "What's the mix?"

Her look spoke volumes about my hair colour and how it related to my intelligence. "Witch and sorcerer."

"Hmm. Well, that narrows down your suspect list, no?"

The finger tapped against her cheek again. "It does, and I can already exclude Simon's dad."

"Why?"

The look again. "Do I look half-Korean to you?"

If the looks kept up, my self-esteem would suffer. "Right."

"And he'd have to be about my mom's age and reasonably attractive."

I raised a brow and this time, thankfully, she skipped the silent "BLOND!" comment and answered.

"My mom wouldn't sleep with just anyone."

"There's artificial insemination, too, Tori." We were in dangerous territory; discussing parental sex lives is enough to make anyone start to sweat.

"Hmm. Well, dark hair and eyes, then."

I pictured Diane Enright, her blond bob and icy steel eyes and I nodded.

"It's a start."

My dinner was icy cold by the time I got downstairs. Tori had swung around from acceptance to anger to grief a couple more times before I could convince her to get under the covers and take a breather. A minute later she was sleeping like the dead and I crept out of the room, hitting the lights as I went, relieved that all the furniture _and_ my limbs had remained intact.

Andrew looked up from his crossword at the kitchen table. "Oh, good. I was about to go up and check on you two."

"She's sleeping," I said by way of an answer, pushing a few buttons to get my food re-heating. I stretched my neck from side to side, wincing at the knot I felt.

"Everything alright?"

The instinct not to say anything was strong, but I thought he should know. "She got an e-mail from her dad. He wants her to call him so that they can get her back into treatment."

"That's it?"

"He said he wasn't really her dad." The microwave beeped and I retrieved my food and a fork from a drawer.

"I see."

I settled down at the table and dug in. It should be illegal for food to taste this good.

"Did she say…anything else?" The way he asked the question tickled my curiosity and I put the fork down and swallowed my mouthful.

"Are you her father?"


	3. The Thong from the Blue Lagoon

**A/N: So here's the newest installment in the one-shots. I got the idea for this one while listening to "The Thong Song" by Sisquo and I couldn't resist writing it up as a little moment of silliness in a rough couple of weeks for our gang. Read and please review!!!**

**I'd also just like to say a whole bunch of thank you's to the following people who were kind enough to review; you guys made my day! JamieKayHuntt, smilin'intherain, ReadingAddiction, EmoTacoFilling, CrimsonFury73 (LOVE the name), Fanpire4000, not-so-innocent011 and Theeyeoftheteapot. E-Hugs for all!**

Disclaimer: I own the ideas in my head…that's about it. Kelley Armstrong still owns the rights to Darkest Powers and she hasn't called to offer them to me as a graduation gift yet. :(

* * *

Even though they had protested, Tori had stuck the guys with laundry duty.

"Do you really want her doing it?" she had asked, pointing at me.

"What?" I'd asked petulantly. "I can do laundry."

After three pairs of eyes had rolled at me, I dropped the basket on the floor.

"Fine, have fun."

Simon hefted the basket with an apologetic grin and headed for the bathroom.

"Uh, Simon, aren't the machines in the basement?" I asked, ready to re-claim some dignity.

He and Derek exchanged an amused look. "They're in the first floor bathroom, Chloe."

"Oh." Whatever was left of my dignity ran away screaming. "Can we fold our own stuff at least?" Because I really wanted them folding my underwear for me…

"Don't worry, I won't get your shirts wrinkled," Simon teased as he headed for the bathroom.

"I-" Tori elbowed me, shaking her head. "Uh, ok."

* * *

"Aaaaaaaaah!" I heard the howl over the music from my iPod. After pulling out an earbud and listening to make sure we weren't under attack, I rolled off the couch in the fancy living room to check out the source of the noise.

Tori was doubled over with laughter in the doorway of the family room. I nudged her out of the way and stuck my head in. At least three loads of laundry were being folded and sorted on the huge couch, except for three or four brightly colored thongs in the middle of the floor.

Derek was studiously folding t-shirts at one end of the couch and Simon at the other. They both looked up when I came in.

"You missed some stuff," I said innocently, scooping up the offending undergarments and tossing them to a still-snickering Tori. "What's the matter, the underwear attack you?"

Simon blushed.

"Uh..."

Derek wouldn't look up, his mouth firmly set. I arched a brow. Tori managed to get herself under control until she looked at the flimsy underwear again. The sounds she made as she struggled to keep from laughing broke through Derek's control and he started to chuckle, finally looking up.

"I threw them at him," he admitted, his eyes bright with laughter. If Simon blushed any darker he'd turn purple.

He muttered a quick, "Shut up," to Derek and put his full attention into matching socks.

Tori waved the underwear at him. "Just scream like a girl again when you find the bras that go with them," she managed to say. Simon growled, grabbed a pair of boxers and threw them at her head.

A hundred takes couldn't have gotten it better. Tori's eyes widened as the boxers flew towards her. They hit her full in the face, and the thongs flew everywhere as she clawed frantically at the offending material. With a screech and a few other words that I had never though to put together before, she flung them off and launched herself over the couch.

"_Not_ funny!" she yelled, tackling Simon. "Those had better have been clean!"

Derek let Simon fight his own battle. He calmly folded a pair of jeans and laid them on a pile then met my eye and grinned. I leaned against the doorjamb, amused by the skirmish. Tori had gotten Simon onto his stomach and twisted his arms behind his back.

"Say uncle," she demanded. He swore and squirmed, but to no avail. Apparently Tori's a lot stronger than she looks. She tickled him and he swore louder. "Say uncle."

"You…suck…" he answered breathlessly, gasping with laughter as she tickled him again. He tried to get her off of him, but to no avail. Finally he collapsed face-first on the carpet.

"Give up?" she asked in a tone that I would have called cheerful, if I hadn't been referring to Tori.

"Bi-Ow!" he yelped when she pinched him.

"Don't be rude."

"Yeah, Simon. Don't be rude." Derek scooped up all the folded clothes on one section of the couch and stepped over Simon and Tori to hand them over to me. Tori pointed at his ankle and made a yanking motion with her fist before I could warn him.

When Derek fell, he instinctively grabbed at something to break his fall. It was just my luck that I was the nearest thing to grab. I half landed on Derek, clothes fluttering down like falling leaves as we sprawled on the floor.

Simon grunted as Derek's foot prodded his neck. "Ow."

Andrew showed up in the doorway, his eyes widening as he took in the clean laundry that literally covered the room and the pile of arms and legs that we made in the middle of it.

I don't know who started to laugh, but I know that it was a long time before anyone could stop long enough to explain. After waiting in vain for an answer, Andrew just shook his head and headed back to his office.

"What's with the kids today?" I heard him mutter.

It took a while, but eventually we got the laundry folded and sorted, the thongs safely hidden in a sweater on Tori's pile. Simon shook his head ruefully as he carried his clothes up the stairs. "Forget I offered. Next time you guys fold your own laundry."


	4. Battle of Wills

**A/N: I'd just like to say yet another HUGE thank you to the people who've taken the time to review, especially JamieKayHuntt, smilin'intherain, not-so-innocent011, and moon-called-princess. I'm doing these shout-outs because I know how much I like being acknowledged for having taken the time to make an author happy. Reviews make my day just that much better. You guys rock!**

**Also, to my cousin, who's on here as Briee (check out her stuff, she's got some awesome Twilight and James and Lily fics in particular!) another thank you (I owe you a few glasses of nice wine) for encouraging me to stop being such a pansy and post some of my stuff. Cousins for life!! :D **

**I'd also just like to say a quick Thanks to anyone who's dropped by to check out my stories; seeing that I've gotten 157 people to read something I've written is a huge rush, even if you didn't review, so I have no idea whether you likey or not, but I'm hoping you did!**

**And just so there's no confusion, because I'm sensing there might be some from a couple of comments I've gotten, all the one-shots that I'll be posting and have posted (unless otherwise specified) will be in Chloe's POV, and are not at all related to each other. These are just little random scenes that I pictured in my head (usually during a boring lecture) and scribbled down. They don't really lead anywhere and can be short, like this one, but there was something about each of them that tickled my fancy and interested me. If I ever post a one-shot that's related to any of the others, I'll put the same title, but with "Part 2" or something to show it's related. **

**This particular one-shot was just something that I pictured while observing a similar "discussion" with my friend and her brother and I thought of Tori and Derek right away. I really like Tori's character and I think that she and Derek have some amazing potential to piss each other off, which is why I wrote this. I'm playing with the idea of making a few related stories like this, with the theme being an ongoing battle of wills between two of the most stubborn people ever. Any ideas for future stories along those lines? Message me, I'm very interested!  
**

Disclaimer: Don't own Darkest Powers, but since possession is nine-tenths of the law, I guess I own Derek now, seeing as how he's in the basement…don't tell Kelley.

* * *

Tori banged on Derek's door again, this time accompanying the hard sounds with a few curses. I paused on my way down the stairs, wondering if he would toss her over the balcony, like he had threatened the last time she woke him up.

"_What_." Not a question. The door had barely opened before Derek snapped at her, his eyes narrowed against the light.

"Dinner's ready." She glared, her hands perching on her hips.

"I told Simon I wasn't eating. Go away." He matched her glare for glare. This would be funny if I wasn't actually starting to worry about the railing not too far behind her…

She tilted her head defiantly. "No."

"Oh, so sorry. Let me rephrase. Leave me the _fuck_ alone." He loomed over her, and let's be honest, no one does looming quite as well as Derek.

Tori jabbed a finger into his chest, toe to toe with him now as she gave him the look of death. "I didn't come all the way up here for nothing. You drag your sorry wolfie ass down into that dining room or so help me God-"

He smirked, taking a threatening step forward which forced her back towards the railing, and I turned and started jogging back up the stairs to save them from each other.

"Or what? You'll hex me?" He waved his hand in a shoo-ing motion. "Run along, crazy lady. I don't want dinner." As sparks flickered at her fingertips it occurred to me that she posed an equal danger to him as he did to her. I sprinted up the last few stairs.

"Tori!" I exclaimed with false joy, grabbing her arm and towing her down the stairs before she could work up a good spell. "I'm so glad I found you, I had a really important question to ask you about-"

"This isn't over, wolfie," she yelled back at the closing door, but she let me pull her away, muttering fiercely to herself. I just prayed it was her usual name-calling and not a spell as I marched her down the last few steps.

I thought I heard a low laugh following us down the stairs, but I might have been wrong.


	5. Battle of Wills Part 2

**A/N: I have labeled this new snapshot as a "Part 2" in my Tori vs. Derek battle, which means that it relates to the previous story. Just as an FYI, very few of these snapshots will end up with Part 2's, but I love the back and forth between those two too much. This is just Tori's little payback for Derek's grumpiness in the earlier snapshot, but as his parting remark suggests, it isn't over yet. **

**As always, the narrator is Chloe (and always will be), and this snapshot was actually based off of an actual conversation that I had with my brothers... yeah, we're so not going there right now. :) Anyways, thanks - as always - to those awesome people who took the time to review; even just a smiley face makes my day! So to : Theeyeoftheteapot, Aqua279, Horsygirl96, not-so-innocent011, smilin'intherain and moon-called-princess, THANK YOU! **

**And for all the Chlerek fans out there (Chlerek FOREVER!), I've got a few snapshots marinating at the moment, and they're just about ready, so hopefully I'll be able to post a couple this week in between writing my History paper and my English paper and my Exceptional Students project and...well, I'll do my best, how's that? :)**

Disclaimer: I went to Kelley Armstrong's signing in Toronto last week and I asked her if I could get the rights to DP. The good news is that she's awesome. The bad news is that I still don't own Darkest Powers. *sigh* Life goes on...**  
**

* * *

Gwen tilted back in her chair until it rose up on two legs, idly wobbling back and forth between them. Andrew sighed exasperatedly – he'd commented on that twice already - and turned his attention back to the t.v. screen. Simon bumped my shoulder to get my attention.

_Look,_ he mouthed, jerking his chin to where Derek was rifling through some pages that Andrew had handed him. Apparently it was a preliminary manuscript that Tomas was working on about werewolves.

Tori, who had been trying to ask Derek a question for the past few minutes, was getting irritated. The intent look on his face was such a contrast to the pissy look on hers that I had to smile. Simon already had his sketchbook open to immortalize the moment.

"Derek's last few moments of life," I whispered in his ear.

"That's a good caption," he said approvingly, pencil moving quickly but with a precision that still amazed me. "The part where she blows him up should get its own page, though."

Tori, frustrated with her inability to get Derek to listen to her questions, hung over his shoulder and started reading from the pages as loudly as possible, directly into his ear.

""_The reproductive practices of werewolves have not been formally studied due to their highly secretive nature and the inherent difficulties in interviewing their female partners, who are unaware of the uniqueness of their pregnancies…_""

I tuned her out, focusing on the way Simon could take a couple of lines and make a completely familiar face appear. He threw a few more lines down and Derek's characteristic scowl graced the page. I grinned. "Nice work." Tori's voice droned on, now onto something about insemination…wait, what?

She stopped reading and pulled back to give Derek an assessing look, her brows raised. "Is that so?" she drawled. "Well, that's interesting." A dangerous grin crossed her face. "Wolfie's got game."

Very uncharacteristically for Derek, he looked uncomfortable and he hastily folded the pages and jammed them in his sweater pocket. "Don't you have a mother ship to return to?"

With a laugh, she turned away, sauntering back to the computer desk. "Oh, I'll shut up about your mating rituals," she said lightly, dropping into the swivel chair. "But that other section was so interesting. You know, the part about your-"

"_Enough_," he growled warningly, his fidgeting betraying his discomfort. A blush was starting to tint his cheeks. I grinned with dark satisfaction even as my curiosity was piqued. At least I wasn't the sucker who was blushing now.

Gwen choked back a laugh and even Andrew looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek to hold back a grin.

Tori continued undeterred, still smiling. "But that part about-"

"We are not discussing my sperm!" Derek bellowed, shooting to his feet, his face flushing fully when he realized what he had said. Tori shrieked with laughter as Gwen clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Andrew chuckled, but kept his eyes on the screen.

Simon's shoulders started to tremble with laughter and he had to lift the pencil to keep from screwing up his sketch. "Sounds like a helluva read," he commented, his eyes crinkling as he seized a rare opportunity to tease his brother.

"This isn't over," Derek snarled at Tori as he stalked out of the room, and I heard his unusually loud footsteps as he stormed out the back way, closing the door harder than necessary. After a few more chuckles, we all settled back down, except for Tori, who was still laughing to herself fifteen minutes later as she booted up the ancient computer.

"I told him I'd get him back for the other morning," she snickered. "Payback's a bitch."


	6. Having Sex with Flaming Animals

**A/N: As always, thanks to my lovely reviewers. It's thanks to you guys that when my chronic insomnia strikes, I come down and write one-shots instead of vegging out in front of the t.v. now. Special thanks to Emmoria, Aqua279, smilin'intherain, moon-called-princess, plz,plz,plz, MorbidMandy, and Silverbird121, your gracious comments give me the warm and fuzzies each time I see them! Thanks, guys!**

**Now, for this one-shot, I know Derek is a little OOC, but I've always felt like he could have a really witty, playful character hidden under all the angst and self-recrimination, so I wanted to write something that would high-light that. The story's narrated by Chloe, as usual. The sentence "having sex with flaming animals" is actually used by shrinks to say that a person is demonstrating all three major signs of sociopathic behaviour, although you definitely aren't going to find it in the DSMV-IV…Shrinks have a weird sense of humour…Anyhoo, hope you enjoy, read and review please, and I promise to post something mushy and fluffy soon (maybe a continuation of Daydream Believer??).**

Disclaimer: I have a History exam in 5 hours…if I owned Darkest Powers I'd be busy writing more books instead of torturing myself with school.

* * *

"I thought you'd read my file," he said. I sighed.

"I did. You're a werewolf, not someone with "anti-social personality disorder"," I exaggerated the air quotes, sitting forward intently as I made my arguments.

Slouching comfortably on the sofa, he put his hands behind his head, tilting it challengingly. "_Do_ I know it?"

"You're so dense sometimes."

He pulled a mock-hurt face. "Chloe, you're hurting my non-existent anti-social feelings right now."

Honestly, professional debate teams have nothing on this guy…

"Well, hang on tight, buddy, because they're about to take a real beating in the next couple of minutes."

A smirk. "Bring it."

A classic line. "Oh, it's already been _brought-en_." His eyebrow raised, and I shook my head. "Line from a chick flick. Anyways, moving on."

He closed his eyes, ready to listen. I took a deep breath.

"They can't even diagnose anti-social personality disorder until the person's over eighteen."

"And why is that?"

I allowed myself a smug grin. "Because hormones can make people act an awful lot like sociopaths. I mean, look at Tori."

"I'd rather not."

Taking a second to swat him with my binder might have lost me points if this was a real debate, but it was definitely satisfying. "As I was saying, the best they can say is that you are showing signs that could _potentially_ indicate a future diagnosis of ASPD."

"You'd make a great lawyer with your ability to say a lot without actually saying anything," he snarked, and I hefted the binder threateningly, narrowing my eyes.

He actually shook his finger at me. "Don't even think about it."

"Then stuff it. I looked the symptoms up on Wikipedia-"

"Obviously you only used the most scientifically validated sources-"

"I already told you to shut it. Once more and I'll smother you with a pillow. Now, as I was saying, the symptoms don't fit you at all." I pulled my list out of my binder, smoothing a folded corner. "You are not a thief. You don't lie for personal gain or pleasure, you aren't reckless, a dropout or suffering from narcissism, and you don't drink or abuse narcotics."

Smiling superciliously, he crossed his arms. "What about the aggression?"

My major points made, I relaxed back into the cushions, picking up a cracker from the plate between us and biting into it. Of course half landed in my lap. I directed a sigh at it, then refocused on Derek.

"One symptom can't ever be taken as proof of a condition, genius. And besides, you're missing one pretty major symptom."

Mr. Bigmouth didn't have to bite the cracker in half; he inhaled it whole, saving himself the crumbs and the annoyance of picking the broken half out of his lap. Jerk.

"And why's that?"

My turn to smirk. "No one would ever accuse you of using charm to achieve your ends."

"Touche," he said through a mouthful of cracker.

"Ready to admit defeat yet?"

"Nope."

"Fine, but you'll have to answer some questions, ok?"

"Yes, Dr. Saunders."

"We were discussing what actually makes a sociopath in my Ethics class one time, and my teacher said that shrinks use a sentence to sum it up."

"Which is?"

"Do they have sex with flaming animals?" I held up three fingers, pointing to each one as I listed my criteria. "Deviant sexual behaviour, animal cruelty and a liking for setting fires."

He was chuckling. "Wow, that's a fun visual."

Rolling my eyes, I held back my own smile.

"So do you like fire?"

"Yup, especially to cook my tortured animals over."

"You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"Yup."

I sighed in defeat and grabbed another cracker. "Seeing as how you haven't burned anything down lately, we'll say that you don't have a desire to burn things. Now, let's see, killed any animals lately while not in wolf form?"

"Does wishing a painful death on the Road Runner count?"

"No." I started drumming my fingers on my knee, trying and failing to give him the "I'm serious" look. It's hard to be authoritative when you're struggling not to laugh.

"Then no."

"And lastly, have you been having inappropriate sexual encounters lately?"

A cheeky grin. "Aside from you sneaking into my bed and ravishing me last night?"

I jumped to my feet, knowing I was being baited but compelled to react anyways. "What?!"

He smacked his forehead. "Oh, yeah, that was just a dream." He winked playfully at me. "But _what_ a dream..."

My cheeks fiery red, I threw my hands in the air as I marched out. "You're impossible!"

He just snagged another couple of crackers and kept grinning. "See you tonight," he called after me.

"In your dreams!" I shouted back from the hallway.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll be there."


	7. Derek's Nightmare

**A/N: Holy reviews, batman! To: MorbidMandy, ReadingInTheDark, smilin'intherain, not-so-innocent011, Aqua279, dimitriandrosehathaway, Theeyeoftheteapot, moon-called-princess, EmoTacoFilling and Silverbird121, you guys absolutely SPOILED ME ROTTEN with reviews! I just ended a five year relationship, so all the love I'm getting here has really helped cheer me up and I have to say that I really appreciate every last one of my readers, over 450 now! Wow...**

**Alright, so I promised some fluffier stuff, and here are not one but TWO little sweeter bits. These are set at the safe house during The Awakening, and even though they each deal with a nightmare, I'm not tying them together in terms of time-line, it's just two snapshots of Chlerek stuff! And since I'm now single, I've got LOTS of time to post up the other 15 or so snapshots I've got kicking around, and I'm planning on starting to post chapters for a post-Reckoning multi-chapter fic within the next week or so. Will you review if I promise to post a shirtless Derek tomorrow??? :P Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I'm not Kelley, I don't make money off this and I only own the rights to Darkest Powers in my dreams...

* * *

I was woken up by a noise around 4:30. To say that I have become a pretty jumpy sleeper is a gross understatement, but this time the noise wasn't from any dead things I had raised, or my own gasps from a nightmare. The noise was muffled, but it sounded like someone struggling.

My first thought was that the Edison Group had found the safe house, or that the Pack had finally come for Derek. Grabbing the shoes that I had learned to always leave next to the bed, I slipped them on as I covered the carpeted floor to the door. The door creaked a little and I heard Tori mumble in her room, sounding put out. Her snores resumed instantly, which definitely didn't make my job easier.

As I opened the door, I hoped it wouldn't creak, and for once my luck held. I listened intently, straining to hear. Normally Derek would have been up at the slightest sound, but if he was the one in trouble, I might be the only one to hear. That did not make me feel better.

One heartbeat, two, three, four, five. At twenty, when there was still no sound of crashing or struggling, I started to exhale. Maybe just the remnants of a dream?

The struggling sounds picked up again, coming from down the hall, and with a final look back at Tori's room–wondering if I should wake her - I decided to check it out. I closed my door behind me, avoided the creaky floorboard and kept to the deeper shadows near the walls, trying to make sure my pyjamas didn't catch on any of the heavy-framed paintings that lined them.

I gave the stairs a cursory look as I skirted them; nothing unusual seemed to be going on down there, but the sounds increased the closer I got to Derek's room. I started to breath faster; anyone well versed in warfare knows that you take out the biggest threat first. Derek was most certainly threatening. Pressing my ear against the door, I breathed as shallowly as possible, listening.

It took me nearly a minute before my heart stopped racing so fast. If there was a struggle, it was one-sided. Did a really unexpected Change come on before he could get outside? His door, too, opened silently.

I had expected to see him kneeling on the floor, muscles spasming wildly in the midst of a Change, but I was wrong. As far as I could tell, Derek was having a nightmare. He had kicked the tangled covers to the floor and his head kept shifting in agitation. His breathing was ragged and every now and then he'd mumble something in a frantic tone. It looked and sounded like a doozy.

After I closed the door, eliminating the faint glow of the nightlights, the dark navy walls and heavy drapes kept out most of the ambient light, so I was really careful with my feet, poking the toe of my shoe around before taking a step so I didn't trip.

As he had done so many times, I reached for his shoulder and shook him.

"Derek." I shook him harder. "Derek, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

He bolted straight up in bed looking dazed as all get out. I saw him focus on me.

"Chloe?" His voice was thick from sleep. "What-"

"Nightmare."

He shuddered as he looked around slowly, searching maybe for whatever had been scaring him so badly.

"You ok?"

The nod was too automatic, his posture too stiff. I hate people that push when someone says they're ok, but he was _really_ not ok. I bent down to pick up the sheets and the comforter. "Lie down."

It was a Christmas miracle in May; Derek listened. That must have been one heck of a nightmare if he was this out of it. With a grunt, I tossed the covers onto the foot of the bed and started straightening them, listening as he slid back down onto his pillow and rubbed his face briskly with his hands. I thought nothing of it until he made an odd gasping noise. What was up with him tonight?

"What were you dreaming about?"

He breathed heavily and slowly. Too slowly. Exactly the strategy I employed when trying to hold back tears. The covers lying flat once again, I sat down cautiously and touched the underside of his forearm that he had thrown across his face. What could upset Derek this much? I heard him struggling to compose himself, and I thought about my most prominent nightmare.

"Your dad?"

Two heavy swallows before he could speak. "Yeah."

What do you say to that? I could give him the pep talk everyone had been giving me about Aunt Lauren, but I knew that no matter what anybody told me, I was expecting the worst. I tightened my grip on his wrist and tugged until he let me move his arm.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"No."

"Ok, then." I kicked off my shoes and shoved him over. Hanging out in a guy's bed might not have been the best idea, but we both desperately needed our sleep and neither of us would sleep if we were alone. I was very proud of that piece of logic. "Make room for me."

The arm came off his face. "Chloe…" he said warningly, resisting the shove.

"It was the part after the "no" that convinced me," I said loftily, grabbing the spare pillow and squirming until I was comfortable, curled up on my side facing the mountain he made under the blankets.

A deep sigh, but he still hadn't tossed me out, so I considered the battle won. "And what did I say after the "no"?"

"You said, "No, because I'm afraid to ask for help, but if you don't mind staying, I really don't want to be alone right now." You said it so quietly that even you didn't hear it. And I'm glad you feel that way, because I don't really want to be alone, either."

He was silent, which I took to be his tacit acceptance of my offer of comfort. I struggled to stay awake in case he wanted to talk, but after a few minutes I realized he didn't want to talk; maybe just having another person around was enough for him.

After a few more minutes I felt my body jerk as I started falling back to sleep. It was one of those stupid falling-down-the-stairs demi-dreams, and usually an immediate precursor to sound sleep. But in the few seconds between the twitch that startled me back awake and the wave of dreamless sleep that flowed over me like a black curtain, I felt the heat from Derek's hand around one of my wrists. His sleep-roughened voice followed me into the abyss, so quiet I almost didn't hear him.

"Thank you."

When I woke up, it was almost nine and I was amazed that no one had figured out anything was wrong, but then I remembered that I had closed both my door and Derek's last night; Tori and Simon probably just thought we were both sleeping in.

When I realized that I wasn't about to have the cavalry burst in, I relaxed and stretched out my legs with a contented sigh. I peeked over my shoulder and saw that Derek was sound asleep, so much so that even the shifting of the mattress as I got up didn't wake him. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said he hadn't been sleeping well, and I realized that the past few nights had been spent either sitting up with me or Changing. No wonder the poor guy was so exhausted.

I tiptoed to the door and used my newly discovered spy skills to listen carefully, making sure everyone was downstairs before I attempted the long trek past the stairs, down the hall and past Tori's room. The front door opened and closed, but no footsteps came in, so I assumed that someone had just left, and I could hear Simon talking to Andrew. My heart racing the whole time, I just managed to get into my own room before I heard Simon's voice more clearly as he started up the stairs.

"Yeah, I'll get both of them," he was saying. A pause. "I know. Actually, it's funny, Derek usually doesn't sleep late."

I scrambled across the floor and just managed to yank the blankets up before he knocked on my door.

"Come in." I stretched my acting skills to their limits trying to sound a little dazed.

I dispatched him as quickly as possible and sighed deeply as I slid down into my pillows. I had comforted Derek and avoided a crisis. Not bad for one night.


	8. Chloe's Nightmare

**A/N: Okies, here's the second "Nightmare" snapshot, again, these are not related. This is also set at the safe house during The Awakening and in my head, this happened after Derek and Chloe had an argument about something, not sure what, though so you can fill in the blanks. :)**

Disclaimer: "The time has come," the Walrus said, "to talk of many things", like how I don't own Darkest Powers...

* * *

I brushed my teeth in a state of extreme irritation and closed my bedroom door a bit harder than I needed to.

"Idiot," I muttered furiously, yanking off my t-shirt and jeans and replacing them with my dry pyjamas as I crawled into bed to fume some more. "Stupid _man_!"

Suddenly exhausted, I curled up on my side and let myself drift, pointedly telling my brain to shut up when it kept going back to D- _HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED_.

I had hoped for pleasanter dreams once we were safe, but as soon as I fell asleep, it became apparent that that wasn't going to happen. My dreams took me straight back to the Edison Group lab, and to Dr. Davidoff, who carefully buckled a straightjacket around me. "You're a danger, Chloe," he told me kindly. "You'll be safer here." He lifted me and I saw the coffin that he was carrying me towards. Dread filled me to bursting and I started to struggle against the buckles that pinned my arms to my body. I fought to get free, but Dr. Davidoff just laid me into the coffin and closed the lid. I screamed so loudly that it was nearly soundless and thrashed as the last little bit of light was sealed away.

"Chloe! _Chloe_!" My dream became my reality as I realized that I couldn't move.

"No," I whimpered, twisting frantically. "No, no, _no_!"

"Chloe, stop!" I felt someone grabbing at me and my panic went through the roof. I twisted so hard that I fell right off the bed and landed painfully on the throw rug. The impact drove the breath from my chest and forced my eyes open. I wasn't in a coffin, or a straightjacket, or even in the Edison Group's lab. I was on the floor, gasping and sadly tangled in my sheet and Derek was coming around the bed, frowning. My body relaxed. If Derek was mad, everything was fine.

I tried to push myself up, but I was really knotted in. After watching me struggle for a few seconds, he lifted me with an impatient sigh. One sweep of his hand and the sheet fell harmlessly to the floor.

"Thanks," I whispered shakily, crawling back onto the bed.

"What happened?" He stayed next to the bed, staring fixedly just to the left of me, his face closed and hard.

"Nightmare." I shivered and pulled the old quilt up to my chin. The hot tears that were burning to be shed wouldn't spill out. They wouldn't... I swiped at them roughly with the cuff of my pyjama top. Damn.

Derek looked like a deer caught in headlights, which I'm pretty sure is the standard hardwired male response to female tears. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

I hiccupped and looked at him. "How'd you end up here? You didn't go to bed?"

He looked pained. "No, I was just coming up and I heard you crying."

Hypersensitive hearing strikes again. As was becoming a routine, Derek had had to come running to my rescue. He'd told me he was tired of looking out for me, and here he was, stuck with me again. The lines in his forehead deepened as I continued to sniffle. And he really didn't need to stand here and watch me cry. Which, of course, made it even harder to stop. As I wiped my face for what I hoped would be the last time, I heard Derek's footsteps on the floor and I waited for the sound of the door closing as he escaped. The door clicked, but seconds after, my bed dipped and he settled back against the headboard next to me. I looked up at him through watery eyes.

"What are you doing?" It sounded interesting coming through my blocked nose.

He toed off his shoes. Thump. "Go back to sleep. I'll stay here." Thump.

"You don't have to."

"I mean it, Chloe." Derek's typical grumpy response made me smile, but I still felt guilty. "What's wrong now?" he asked testily when I sniffled again.

"I'm sorry." The irony of me using his favourite words was not lost on me. I picked at a thread on the quilt. "You're always stuck taking care of me." I grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the bedside table and wiped my eyes and then my nose. Thank God it was dark. I am one of those people who are really ugly when they cry. "I used to get along just fine without you, if you can believe that."

He made a disbelieving sound and grabbed a frilly sham pillow to prop behind his back. He muttered to himself, and I caught something about Simon.

"You really don't have to stay with me if you don't want to," I said quietly, but I was still a little rattled from the nightmare and I didn't want to be alone. He shot me a look from under his lashes, and even in the dark, I was startled by the intensity behind his gaze.

"Chloe, for God's sake, go to sleep."

"Fine. But just for the record," I said as I traded my sweat-soaked pillow for a dry one and curled up on my side again, "if I wanted Simon here instead of you, I'd go and get him." Before he could argue, I closed my eyes. "Shh, I'm sleeping." I felt the bed tremble with a silent laugh and I smiled into the fluffy pillow.

The dark wasn't so threatening anymore and Derek radiated heat, and I fell back to sleep much faster than I had hoped.

Waking up without sweat streaming into my eyes and screams echoing in my head was amazing. I slitted my eyes and saw Derek's outline against the headboard in the murky dawn light. He had drawn up his knees and his forearms were balanced on them, his head resting back. I wondered if he was asleep, but I saw his head turn as my breathing changed. I didn't open my eyes and I kept my breathing as regular as I could, and after a moment of watching me, he must have decided I was still asleep and relaxed.

After a moment, he reached out tentatively like he was expecting to have his hand slapped away, and shifted some of my hair that had fallen across my face. His warm fingers lingered on my cheek for a second longer than they had to. He looked different in that moment. Slowly, his face changed, the contentment fading into a familiar shuttered expression.

Derek wasn't even old enough to vote yet, and already he had been exposed to more cruelty than most people face in their entire lives. He knew, as I was coming to understand, that we'd never be truly accepted by the supernatural community. Even among them we were abominations, genetically modified teenagers with powers we didn't know if we could ever control. His life hadn't been easy, but he was lucky enough to have a family to go back to after all this was over.

I pushed that unwelcome though aside and waited until he was distracted, then I yawned and rubbed sleepily at my eyes, blinking at the alarm clock to bring it into focus. "Hey."

He grunted, stretching his shoulders.

"Thanks for staying." I was so grateful for those few hours of precious and un-terrorized sleep. He made some noises that could have been a "you're welcome", swung his legs off the bed and headed for the door.

"Derek?" He paused with his hand on the doorknob, but he didn't turn around.

"Yeah?"

I shifted around until I got my feet on the ground and I ran over to him and threw my arms around him from behind. He stiffened but didn't pull away. "Thank you," I mumbled against his back, unable to express how much I appreciated what he had done.

He turned gingerly in my embrace and awkwardly patted me on the back. I think he was afraid I'd get all emotional again.

"You're welcome." And with that, he slipped out the door.


	9. Faking It

**A/N: Wow, just those two chapters netted over a hundred readers, but unfortunately not a hundred reviews, but never fear, I appreciate the traffic anyways! :) For those of you that did review, namely: Jamie Kay Huntt, EmoTacoFilling ("cool factor" eh? Awesome, I'm cool!), MorbidMandy, wolflover777, moon-called-princess, Whatchulookingatfool, ReadingInTheDark, Silverbird121 and smilin'intherain, I appreciate the encouraging words more than I can say!**

**Alrighty, so to set up this chapter, this is set at the safehouse, just before our favorite foursome meet Margaret (*gag*) and Gwen. I've changed the meeting to suit my purposes. This snapshot starts with Simon and Chloe taking a walk in the woods, and (of course) he's holding her hand, and it goes from there. There are two more snapshots after this that are somewhat related, and I'll have them up one at a time in the next couple of days. **

**Any suggestions for my multi-chapter fic are welcome, especially since it's Post-Reckoning, which means anything can happen. *grins* I love lemonade, don't you? ;P So if you've got suggestions, PM me and I'll be glad to work them in! Thanks!**

Disclaimer: I'm investing in a e-stamp that says "I don't own Darkest Powers and I'm not Kelley Armstrong".

* * *

In an effort to change the subject, I pointedly removed my hand from Simon's and smiled.

"I've been meaning to ask you, how was Tori?" He looked puzzled, and I realized I hadn't really asked that question right. "Sorry. I meant when you guys first got to Andrew's place?"

He rolled his eyes. "I think interesting is the nicest word I could use."

"Really? I thought she was being nicer..."

"Oh, she was nice enough, just whiny." He looked at me admiringly. "Not like you. You're a trooper, Chloe."

"Simon-"

He leaned towards me and as he lowered his head, I realized he was about to kiss me.

A hoarse voice calling my name brought our heads around pretty quickly. Derek leaned heavily against a nearby tree, one arm wrapped around his stomach. He was breathing heavily and sweating and I saw all the usual signs of a Change.

"D? What's going on?" Simon's slightly panicked tone made me realize that he still hasn't witnessed one of Derek's Changes. Oh, crap. He needed to leave, _now_.

I looked at Simon's worried expression. "I'll come get you when it's over, ok?" I waited while he looked between Derek and I, obviously concerned but nervous, too.

"Do you want me to come?" he finally asked Derek.

Derek's head was hanging forward, but he wobbled it back and forth.

"That's a no," I confirmed, sliding off of the rock and jogging over. I grabbed Derek's arm and started leading him deeper into the woods. "Really, it'll be ok," I called back. I didn't know who I was trying to convince, but I just prayed that Simon would be smart enough not to follow.

It was only after we had gotten pretty far from the rocks that I noticed Derek's skin wasn't pulsing or burning like it usually was during a Change. I looked at him curiously and saw that he wouldn't meet my eyes. I looked closer. His muscles weren't even so much as flickering. Interesting. He moved his head away when I reached to touch his forehead.

"How about you try cooperating for once?" I grumbled, yanking on his arm until he heaved a deep sigh and bent enough that I could reach his face. I felt his forehead and cheeks for fever, relieved when I realized he was at his usual temperature.

Wow. When had I started knowing what Derek's usual _anything_ was?

"You're not Changing, are you?" I crossed my arms and gave him a look.

"Hmm, I must have been mistaken." He sauntered along, looking a little too pleased with himself. "It might still happen though, without a moment's notice. I could be incapacitated out here, all alone."

Ignoring the blatant play for sympathy, I threw my hands in the air. "You seriously just faked a Change to keep Simon from kissing me?"

"No." His smirk disappeared and he ground his back teeth together.

"Ok." I shrugged and turned back to the house. "You should check your pants, make sure they're not on fire, you liar."

I didn't make it far before he caught my hand. "I'm-"

"Sorry," I finished for him. "I'm sure you are. You always are." I sighed, but stopped, yielding to the gentle pressure on my hand. "Has it ever occurred to you to just not do things that you'll end up apologizing for?"

"Yup," he agreed, turning back towards the woods and I followed easily, not particularly interested in yanking my hand away and ripping him a new one as he so rightly deserved.

"So?"

"It's easier to go ahead and then apologize instead of waiting for permission." That response was so typically Derek that I laughed.

We were quiet for a long time, the thud of my sneakers the only sound. "Were you really going to kiss him?" he asked eventually.

"So you throw me at him and him at me and now you're mad that he tried to kiss me?"

"That's not an answer."

"You're not answering my question either."

He moved in front of me, halting our walk. "Yes."

Aha! Finally, an answer I could work with. "I see."

His brows lowered. "I answered your question."

"Yes, you did. Thank you." If looks could kill, the next corpse I'd be raising would be mine.

"Chloe…" He tried looming, but by now I was immune.

I batted my eyes at him, playing dumb. "Yes?"

"For God's sake, would you just answer me?"

"Fine." A shrug. "I might have." I honestly didn't have another answer for him.

"Hmmph." Apparently we'd gone far enough, because he started walking towards the house again, and I ran to catch up, taking two quick steps to each one of his.

"How are you planning on explaining the lack of Change, Mr. Smart Guy?" If I was really honest, his even response to my answer hurt my feelings just a tiny bit.

He shrugged it off. "I was mistaken. Mistakes happen."

I eyed him. "You don't make mistakes."

"Sure I do."

I threw my head back with my forearm across my eyes. "No! Say it ain't so!"

He had his mouth open to answer when I heard Simon's voice calling anxiously from the patio. I dropped the drama act and left Derek to explain while I headed inside to try and find some Bisquick and syrup.

If I were a more sensitive person, I might have resented the wary way everyone looked at the heaps of pancakes that I set out on the table.

"What makes you think I can't cook?" I asked, tapping the spatula against my open palm menacingly.

"Washed any clothes lately?" Derek.

"Peeled any carrots lately?" Simon.

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled, dropping into my seat. "Just because our maids did the laundry and cleaned the house didn't mean that I didn't have to feed myself occasionally."

After making them try the pancakes – which were perfectly done, thankyouverymuch – I stacked the dishes in the sink and pointed at Derek, who had eaten twelve.

"And you, you ungrateful hunk of werewolf, _you_ get to do the dishes." My finger shifted to Simon. "And you get to make breakfast tomorrow for that comment."

While Simon nodded agreeably, Derek's eyes narrowed, but he got up, collected the plates and started rinsing the dishes without complaint. Tori smirked at him and flounced off to the family room to re-attach herself to her mothership, the computer. Andrew kicked back at the table and started talking to Simon about his graphic novel idea while nursing a final cup of coffee.

Feeling triumphant, I trotted upstairs to squeeze in a shower before Tori hogged all the hot water again, listening to the easy hum of voices in the dining room as I left. It was nice to have such peace and quiet.

* * *

Rolling my shoulders under the warm spray, I groped behind me for the shampoo. Reaching out blindly proved to be a bad choice, though, as my fingers crashed into a row of bottles. Shampoos, varying bars of soap and body washes, loofahs, razors and a bottle of conditioner clattered onto the floor of the shower. After expelling a frustrated sigh, I stooped to collect the mess.

After two tries, I still hadn't managed to get a good hold on the slippery bar of soap. I used a few choice words I had picked up from Simon as the blue bar skidded out of my grasp yet again. Determined to succeed, I was reaching deliberately for it with both hands when a hollow boom startled me and I slipped, landing with a teeth-rattling thud on the smooth bottom of the tub.

"_Chloe!_"

Oh. My. God.

"Derek, what the f-"

"Are you alright?"

From my lovely position of flat on my ass, I wanted to die.

"What are you talking about?" Calm. Good, I sounded calm. Thank God he hadn't ripped open the curtain to make sure.

"I heard a noise." The concern was slowly sounding like something closer to sheepish. I had a vision of a wool-covered Derek, bleating and I had to smother a slightly hysterical laugh.

"So you broke down the door?" I didn't trust myself to say much else at this point.

"It sounded like a struggle." Definitely sheepish.

"Yeah, it was a fight to death between me and the soap dish." I was surprised at my liberal use of sarcasm, but seriously, he needed to leave. Now.

He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "Right. You should be more careful."

Clambering carefully to my feet, I pulled the curtain aside the tiniest bit at eye level. He was standing right in front of the shower, a deep frown on his face. Typical Derek. He hears shampoo bottles fall, assumes I'm being massacred by God knows what, breaks down the bathroom door and when it turns out to be nothing, somehow it's _my_ fault.

"I'm good," I said calmly. "But seeing as how I'm kind of naked over here, do you think you could get _out_?!" My voice raised slowly, until I nearly shouted the last words at him.

I had thought he might blush or apologize, then flee in terror of my unholy wrath. Come on. Would it be too much to hope for one little stammered excuse as he left? But that was my fantasy, and this was Derek. He directed his frown at my little peephole for a second, grunted and left, closing the door carefully behind him.

I heard voices in the hallway, Derek's low tones and Simon's, sounding concerned. Wonderful. Maybe he should come on in, too, just to double check that I wasn't being murdered. Party in the bathroom!

I really didn't get to enjoy the rest of my shower since I kept one paranoid ear on the noises in the hallway, worried about someone else bursting in on me. After toweling off and getting dressed with my back pressed against the sagging door that no longer locked, I combed out my hair and grabbed a pack of cards from my bedroom as I headed downstairs, hoping someone would be up for a game or two.

Fortunately, our endless free time was at an end. Two strangers were at the dining room table with everyone else. I stopped in the doorway. One was an older woman, the scarily successful corporate type and the other was a tiny, pixie-like blond, probably not much older than us.

"About time you got here," Tori grumbled, eyeing my wet hair. "What happened before? Something crashed and the guys took off upstairs."

"Killer soap dish," Derek deadpanned. My God, was that a joke?

Andrew shook his head amusedly. "Glad to see you survived with all limbs intact."

"And you are?" This from the older woman. She had one of those voices that could cut through any crowd.

I gratefully accepted the chair Simon offered. "I'm Chloe S-"

"The necromancer?" Sheesh, would it kill her to be a little friendlier?

"Y-yes."

Simon gestured to her. "This is Margaret. She's a necromancer, too."

"Oh." _Great_.

"And I'm Gwen," the younger one offered, smiling openly. "I'm here to give Tori a hand with her spellcasting."

Tori and I exchanged a brief look. Gwen had a surprise coming to her if she thought all Tori needed was some minor coaching.

Andrew surveyed the group with satisfaction. "So now that Margaret and Gwen are here, we'll be starting some formalized training for you guys tomorrow."

Simon's eyes were bright with excitement, and even Tori's typical supercilious expression held a faint edge of eagerness. I caught Margaret's suspicious survey of me and sighed internally. I could tell that she didn't think much of me or my powers, but she'd see soon enough why I so desperately needed some mentoring.

"Chloe, you'll show me some of what you can do," Margaret ordered. I thought I heard a faint growl from Derek, but I could have been mistaken. While the others hung out around the table, getting to know each other, I had to show this doubtful woman that my powers were too much for me to handle without help, without convincing her that the Edison Group was right to want to put us down like rabid dogs. This was _so_ not going to be fun.


	10. Faking It Part 2

A**/N: Thanks as always to my reviewers, I'll do a big shout out after I've put up Part 3, hopefully sometime tomorrow night. This is right after the Part 1 segment, but later that night. And just to make you happy (who am I kidding, I did it to make myself happy too!), Derek + water + shirtless = ...... Sound good? ;)**

Disclaimer: I'm not Kelley Armstrong and I don't own Darkest Powers

* * *

For all that Derek had faked that Change this afternoon, he wasn't faking it now. He wove in my bedroom doorway, eyes unfocused and glassy, hair damp with sweat. His skin was radiating so much heat I could almost see the haze around him, like a sidewalk in July.

"Chloe?" He cleared his throat, trying for something less hoarse. "It's happening again."

Blinking the haze from my eyes, I pulled sweatpants and a sweater on over my pyjamas, and grabbed some shoes and a jacket before I followed him down the darkened hall.

The stairs were silent for once, and the French doors opened without a single squeak. Derek staggered a little as he stepped off the flagstone patio and I shot forward to catch his arm, feeling the odd rippling under my hand.

"Easy," I murmured, letting my hand slide down to meet his hot palm. I hated being led blindly, but there was no way my night vision could even hope to compete with his. Derek moved quickly, guiding us into the deeper darkness of the forest, though we didn't need to go as far, since anyone who would come looking should know better.

The usual routine followed: I looked away as he stripped to his boxers and braced for impact. I settled next to him and laid my hand on the scorching skin of his back.

"It'll be ok, Derek. _You'll_ be ok."

He nodded, his breathing loud in the quiet of the woods. The cool air might feel good to him, but I was appreciative of his warmth near me.

The rippling in his muscles started amping up but the really bad part was still to come. I waited, still not able to be totally calm about this. I could feel his stomach wrench even through his back and I winced in sympathy. Here we go.

The projectile vomiting this time was really spectacular, even for Derek. He wretched miserably for what felt like hours, a familiar low-level moan following each heave. When the pitch started to head towards a whine, I knew that he'd soon start sprouting fur, followed by the dreaded snapping bones, and I wasn't disappointed.

He gagged again and again, but I was pretty sure he'd already brought everything up, including his spleen. Well, maybe not literally his spleen, but he was sure trying. His body was shaking with the effort of keeping him propped on his hands and knees, so I leaned against his side to give him something to brace on, trying not to break the rhythm my hand had going on his back.

With a strangled cry, Derek's arms gave out and he collapsed onto the ground, his fingers still dug into the loamy dirt. Before I could do anything, another spasm ripped him up onto his knees again and I heard the unfortunately familiar snapping as his bones re-set. As minutes passed, the dark fur pushed out of his skin and I knew his face was turning more canine than human, even though he kept it turned away. I prayed for this to be the first full Change, so that we could both rest easy tonight.

"Please," I whispered fiercely, my palm no longer stroking skin but thick fur. "Please, please…"

He struggled to speak and after repeating himself a few times, I figured out that he wanted me to move away. My heart lurched; he wouldn't tell me to go unless he thought it was really going to happen. I fought the shiver, knowing that he was waiting for my reaction. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and remembered the sheer terror I had seen in his eyes that first time. No way was I going to panic now. He deserved better than that.

"Chloe?"

It was harder for him to get words out now. My name was barely recognizable. I snapped back to attention.

"Ok." I got up slowly and moved a few feet away, my pulse drumming in my ears.

It was almost as if he had been waiting for me to move. With a desperate surge, his body started to morph more completely than it ever had before. For a second I wondered if he would survive this, then I clenched my teeth and started praying again.

His eyes stretched wide with shock at the renewed pain and after a few minutes I'd really rather not remember, the Change was done. A black wolf that was bigger than a Great Dane stood where Derek had been kneeling. Its head was down, its legs shaking as its sides heaved.

I froze in place. No sudden movements sounded like a good policy right now, but if he was going to go postal on me, I really wanted to just get it over with. When his eyes met mine, I gasped and my heart started beating again. They were Derek's eyes, still shockingly green, surrounded now by thick, dark fur. He whined low in his throat and his tail swished wearily. Holy baby Jesus, he had a tail… This was surreal.

He sat down and waited like he knew I needed a moment to process this. I took a few deep breaths and shook my head to clear it. He got up and walked towards me slowly, waiting to see if I would panic. I fought the "_RUN LIKE HELL_" command that the lizard part of my brain was issuing and let him come right up to me. He nudged me with his big head and looking at him, a shaky laugh escaped me.

"Can I call you pookie when you're in wolf form?"

He narrowed his eyes and growled without any real menace. I grinned. "Who's the pretty puppy? You're the pretty puppy, aren't you?"

Clearly offended, he puffed himself up and stalked away, but the effect was ruined when he paused and looked over his shoulder, amusement clear in his expressive eyes. He whined inquiringly and motioned towards the forest with a swing of his huge head. I could almost hear his voice. _You coming?_

It was peaceful in the woods at night. I wasn't at all afraid; the biggest and scariest thing in these woods was padding along beside me, his head nearly to my shoulders. Heck, even a bear would think twice before messing with him. Once in a while he'd move away a little, sniffing curiously at something. I'd stop and watch him, marvelling again that human Derek was now that wolf.

A rustle in the underbrush drew his attention, and he darted over. I kept my face blank and hoped he wouldn't bring me back a dead rabbit, also known in the animal kingdom as a "present". After a few minutes, he came trotting out, seemingly pleased with himself, and I figured that if he'd just been eating something cute and fluffy, I'd really rather not know.

We wandered for over an hour, until my legs started getting tired, and I touched his back, my palm skimming the rough outer fur. He stopped and turned his attention to me. I didn't know how much he understood, so I kept it simple and spoke slowly.

"I'm tired. Can we sit?"

He closed his teeth on my sleeve and tugged.

"What?"

He swung his head towards a heavy clump of bushes, looking back at me encouragingly.

"You want me to go there?"

He shook his head and I could've sworn I heard him heave a wolfish sigh. Trying again, he started towards the bushes and I followed, still confused. A low growl stopped me as he turned to face me, shaking his head again.

"You want me to stay here?" He chuffed approvingly. "Ok." I hunted up a log that appeared reasonably clean in the dark. Derek trotted back over to me and tugged his clothes out of my grasp. Suddenly it was clear.

"You need to Change back, don't you?" A woof was muffled by his sweatpants, but I understood. "I'll wait here."

He disappeared into the dense shrubbery and in a few moments I head a low whine that grew higher in pitch as the seconds passed. Anxiety cramped my stomach; what if he couldn't turn human again? What if something went wrong? How was I supposed to find a way out of here to get help?

The horrible cracking of bones sounded again, but oddly it relieved me because at least it was something I knew. The whine cut off abruptly and Derek's very human groans replaced it, along with a faint retch or two. His heavy breathing was audible even to me.

"Still alive?" I called, my tone much more casual than I felt.

"Mostly." A wide grin split my face at his response even though his voice still sounded odd.

"Can I come over there now?"

"No." No one would ever accuse Derek of wasting words.

I waited, tapping my foot impatiently until the bushes took up a busy shaking. I took that to mean Derek was up and hopefully dressing. My thoughts were confirmed when he limped slowly out from the clump, relying heavily on low-hanging branches.

I managed to get to him just as his knees gave way. He braced his hands on the ground and struggled to get to his feet.

"Easy, easy," I murmured, dropping to one knee next to him. "You ok?"

"Tired," he whispered. I remembered how he had collapsed into an exhausted sleep outside that truck stop, but we couldn't risk staying out in the woods all night like that again. Not when we were being hunted like we were now.

"I know, but we have to go in." Tugging on his arm, I managed to get him up onto his knees. "Lean on me. Come on, Derek."

It took a few minutes, but he was eventually up on his feet. He tried to keep most of his weight off of me but I still staggered when he braced an arm around my shoulders.

"How far to the house?" I asked worriedly.

He didn't answer, just pointed, and I realized he had led us in a circle and the house was close enough that I could see the lights on the porch. I sent up a little prayer of thanks; there was no way I'd be able to help him much further than that.

Getting my feet on the patio felt like the finish line of a race, until I realized that I still had to drag a half-naked man up the stairs. _And into the shower_, I added to myself. Mud and sweat streaked his skin. The sheets would be ruined if he laid on them like this.

"'M ok," he mumbled when I had gotten him to the foot of the stairs. One big hand closed around the banister and I marvelled at how he was still able to move. I stayed glued to his side, afraid that he'd lose his balance and end up at the bottom. One slow, agonizing step at a time got us to the landing, where he started to weave on his feet and I was sure he wouldn't be able to go any further.

"No, no, keep going," I gasped, hauling on his other arm, frantic to get him onto the second floor, even if it meant that I had to leave him in the tub to sleep it off.

A loopy little grin creased his cheek. "Yes, ma'am."

Four millenia later we reached the top of the stairs and I breathed a sigh of relief that the bathroom was so close by. A few more shambling steps got us onto the cool tiled floor. I closed the door and hit the lights, all one-handed since I still wasn't totally sure Derek would stay vertical if I let go. The fan whooshed on noisily, and I hoped that no one came to check it out. The door didn't lock anymore thanks to Derek's heroic measures to save me from the killer soap dish.

Leaving him propped against the sink, I got the water running in the tub.

"You still with me?" I asked, letting it run over my fingers to check the temperature.

"Uhuh." Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, I saw him leaning back on his hands, chin on his chest. He was really out of it but still standing, which I took as a good sign.

I turned to face him when the water was a warm, then realized that we had a problem.

"Uh, Derek?"

"Mm?"

"You need to get into the shower."

"Mmhmm."

I sighed, crossing my arms and tapping my foot impatiently. "I can't really help with this part."

"Oh." Finally, a few synapses had fired in that big brain of his.

"Yeah. But I don't want to leave you here alone either. At this rate Simon'll find you snoozing on the floor of the shower when he gets up."

He lifted his head with an effort and straightened up from his slump, weaving only a little. "I'll be fine."

"Of course you'll be fine. You'll be fine right up until you hit the floor, unconscious." I closed my eyes briefly to think and then uttered a request for strength. "Ok, here's what we'll do. I'll keep my eyes closed while you do the stripper thing and get in the shower."

A sigh, but he didn't argue. I heard a faint rustling as he stripped and I put my hands over my eyes, ensuring I didn't see anything I wanted- uh, I mean anything I shouldn't see.

Slow, measured steps crossed the floor to the shower, and the tub made its usual creaking noises as it accepted his weight. The curtain whooshed closed and the tone of the spraying water changed as it hit skin and after a super fast test peek, I relaxed and dropped my hands.

"Let me know when you're done and I'll bring you a towel."

He grunted. I rolled my eyes and yawned so widely my jaw cracked. Only when he left that bathroom in one piece would I crawl into the bed that called so seductively to me.

Fortunately he was done quickly, and I lobbed a towel over the top of the curtain before retreating back to my perch on the toilet seat and covering my eyes again. After another minute the tub creaked again and he cleared his throat.

"Done?" I asked.

"All clear."

After opening my eyes, I immediately wished I'd kept them closed. Derek shirtless was enough to make me blush. Derek shirtless with damp hair, little beads of water all over him and only a towel wrapped around his waist brought my blood pressure up to a dangerous level.

"Eyes up here," he said gruffly, his skin darkening with a flush. He shifted and cleared his throat. "I survived. I'm going to bed. You shouldn't have waited."

_Like a mother hen with a six-pack_, I thought, trying hard to keep my eyes above his collarbones.

It helped if I stared at his right eyebrow. "I did, so deal with it. Whatever, it's done and we both need to get to bed."

We left the bathroom together, both of us more than ready to hit our respective sacks, but just as I reached back to hit the lights a voice made me freeze in my tracks.

"Oh, my _God_."

I whipped around and saw Tori, blinking hard in the light from the bathroom. She was staring at Derek, her face a mask of shock while her eyes ran the same gamut as mine, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Jesus, _what_?" he huffed, and I think he wanted to cross his arms, but one hand was clutching the knot in the towel in a death grip and the other held his muddy clothes so he settled for glaring as only Derek could.

She stepped forward, frowning. "You- you're..." She shook her head in surprise, her usual calculating expression making an appearance as she took in the two of us still standing outside the bathroom door. "Riiiight. Well, don't let me interrupt," she said coyly.

Derek growled at her, and I took the moment to flee for my bedroom with only a hurried "Good night," as I hustled by. Her soft laughter pursued me down the hall and into my room before I shut the door with a few choice words of my own, though who they were directed at, I'm not really sure.

Crawling into bed, I hoped I'd be able to fall asleep instead of thinking over that particular interlude _ad nauseum_. For once things seemed to be going my way; after a night without sleep my body had other plans. I was asleep before I had done more than pull the covers over my shoulder.


	11. Faking It Part 3

**A/N: Here's Part 3 to this snapshot, and I have to say, I really enjoyed the very positive response I got from all of you about what is really just a couple of ordinary days in the lives of our fave foursome. Gigundo thankees again to: Jamie Kay Huntt, EmoTacoFilling, MorbidMandy, ReadingInTheDark, Silverbird121, smilin'intherain, not-so-innocent011, and xXGh0stXx. As always, reviews keep me going, and don't worry, there are lots more stories to come, but I'll be starting a second Snapshots for all my post-Reckoning stuff (I'll be moving Daydream Believer over there), and I'll keep my Summoning/Awakening/Reckoning stuff here. And then of course I'll be starting to post my multi-chapter fic soon too...busy busy busy. :) Enjoy!**

**So the setting is the morning after Tori sees Chlerek's highly suspicious leaving-bathroom-together-in-the-middle-of-the-night escapade. I wanted to have a little bit of Simon/Derek interaction and show the brotherly love, and I was watching my cat play with my dog and I came up with this little snapshot. My cat is young and playful and my dog is old and grumpy and as soon as I saw them playing I thought of S and D, so here you are!**

Disclaimer: I am not Kelley Armstrong and I don't own Darkest Powers, I just abuse the characters for my own pleasure. :)

* * *

After the awkward moment in the hall the night before, I was only too glad to see just Simon in the kitchen for breakfast. We joked around while we made ourselves something to eat, although I kept a sharp ear out for Tori, ready to flee as soon as I heard her coming.

Simon kept looking at the door, and once when he caught my eye he grinned apologetically.

"Sorry, I'm not bored or anything, I'm just wondering what's keeping Derek. He's always up early."

I shrugged and put on my innocent face, finishing up my toast. We hung out a while longer and I gave him a hand with the dishes, then we played a few hands of cards. When we were done, Simon checked his watch and rolled his eyes.

"Ok, this is ridiculous. Derek's really got to get up and eat, or he'll be a force to be reckoned with by lunchtime. We'll be lucky to get crumbs."

He was on his feet in one graceful move. "You want to come up with me? I don't think he'd dare dismember me if you're around."

I took the proffered hand, noticing with an odd feeling that he didn't let go as we went up the stairs, though I hung back in the doorway when Simon went in, not voicing my opinion that my nerves weren't really up for more half-naked Derek.

The room was still pretty dim, but I saw as Simon padded across the floor and then suddenly launched himself onto Derek's prone form with a whoop.

"WAKE UP!"

A grin tugged at my cheeks as Derek calmly booted Simon onto the floor with a grumpy, "Go away."

From his position on the rug, Simon grabbed the trailing covers and yanked hard.

Derek grunted as he was stripped of his sheets and pulled a pillow over his head, stretching out more fully on his stomach. I averted my eyes. He should sleep fully clothed, for the sake of my poor, blush-ridden cheeks.

"You're a real killjoy, you know that?" Simon groused. He stood up, dumping the tangle of blankets onto the foot of the bed, glaring at Derek's back. Another grunt, and a few muttered words came out muffled by the pillow.

"Chloe's here, so you can't say stuff like that, or she'll know what a jerk you can be. You have to be nice to me for now," Simon said smugly, tugging at the aforementioned pillow.

Derek's scratchy morning voice was pitched loud enough for me to hear this time. "Tell Chloe to go away so I can tell you what a pain in my ass you are."

"Still here," I said cheerfully from the doorway, waving at a glint from between the pillows that I thought might be an eye.

Simon finally pulled the pillow free with a triumphant, "Ha!"

Derek glowered, then flipped the pillow that had been under his head over it. "Sucker."

Simon's face fell. "Seriously?" He started prying Derek's fingers loose from the second pillow, muttering words too low for those of us with non-bionic hearing to catch.

"And you're worried about me being rude?" came the grumpy reply, followed by a sigh as Simon braced his feet and started really yanking. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Bacon and eggs? Fresh fruit with yogurt? Orange juice and milk and coffee? Any of this sounding good, bro?"

"...Maybe."

"Well, it'll all be gone if you don't haul ass, so get up!"

I laughed as Derek let go of the pillow without warning and Simon staggered wildly halfway across the room, pinwheeling his arms to regain his balance. Derek pushed himself up on his forearms, the muscles in his back flexing in interesting ways as he watched with sleepy amusement.

Simon caught his balance and stomped back across the floor, throwing the pillow onto the pile of linens that he'd pulled off the bed. "Funny, Derek."

"I thought so," was the smug reply. "Now seriously, go away."

I hit the switch to turn on the lights and tried to sound as grating cheerful as possible. "Good morning, sunshine! You gonna get up now?"

Simon laughed as Derek swore loudly, eyes slitted against the light. "And you were worried about her hearing you call me an ass?"

"Oh, my _God_, what did I do to deserve this?" Derek complained, smacking his open palm against the mattress and flopping face-down with a heartfelt groan.

"You exist, wolfie. Now get up before I start telling everyone about last night." Tori popped up in the doorway behind me, grinning evilly as Derek shot up on his elbows again. The ruckus must have drawn her out. She finished tying her hair back in a ponytail and smirked as I evaded her gaze.

"And you know that's not an empty threat." She threw that parting shot over her shoulder as she backtracked down the hall to the stairs, on her way to her session with Gwen.

Simon looked confused and had his mouth open to ask what she was talking about when he was distracted as Derek grudgingly pulled himself up to a sitting position, rolling his shoulders as he yawned and mumbled something about coffee. A warning light went off in my brain as more sleek muscles shifted under his skin. _Sensory overload_, I thought dazedly, realizing I should stop staring at him so he could get dressed.

After a few seconds I looked back over my shoulder to see that Derek had his jeans on and was digging into a drawer to get a shirt. Our eyes met briefly and I looked away, glad when Simon started bugging his brother some more and I could make a quick escape.

Andrew intercepted me as I was coming down the stairs.

"Chloe, perfect timing. Did Simon tell you about the plan for the day?"

I nodded, jumping down the last couple of steps. "Tori just went out, and he said something about him being after her."

"Well, because of Tori's spells being a little…unpredictable, we thought we should take turns with the training."

"Sounds good," I confirmed. "Will Margaret let me know when she's ready for me?"

She poked her head out of the library. "Be ready to go sometime after lunch."

Without waiting for an answer, she ducked back in. I looked at Andrew and he shrugged with an apologetic smile.

"That's Margaret," he said softly, his eyes behind me. "So the walking dead have joined us, I see."

Derek knuckled an eye and made a few noises that might have been a "Indeed, and top o' the mornin' to ye as well, Andrew", or more likely, "Yeah, now don't get between me and the food" as he padded barefoot into the kitchen.

With a brief grin, Andrew followed him, and I beat a retreat back to the window seat in the living room, listening as Simon dished his brother up some breakfast and the promised coffee, ragging him the whole time about him never being this slow to focus in the mornings. I settled into my usual spot and sighed, sending up a heartfelt request to any deity who could be bothered to listen that Tori would just keep her big mouth shut.


	12. Basement's are Fun

**A/N: Whew, what a couple of weeks...so sorry I haven't updated, break-ups tend to kill my ability to write anything that isn't emo and depressing and wow-I-want-to-jump-out-of-that-window stuff, but luckily this one was already written and just needed a little polishing. Thanks to my cousin for talking me down off the ledge a few times, you're the very best! Anyways, it's back to business as usual, so I will be starting to post regularly again, hopefully one a week at this rate. **

**So, to put this one in context, it's at the safe house, set during The Awakening and...yeah, I think that's all you need to know. Please read and review, and speaking of reviews, special thanks to: Jamie Kay Huntt, dimitriandrosehathaway, MorbidMandy, not-so-innocent011, EmoTacoFilling, moon-called-princess, Silverbird121, Aqua279 and cristal (I know, we totally needed some funny Derek. I've got more hilarity planned, just bear with me for another week or so!)**

Disclaimer: Don't own Darkest Powers, don't make any money off of this, am not Kelley Armstrong. We clear?

I was hanging out in the formal living room, enjoying the peace and quiet when Derek ambled in. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and wandered to the piano to inspect it, pressing one key and letting the sound trail off.

"You busy?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Not for a bit."

"Want to go exploring?" A full stomach always seemed to perk him up, and I couldn't resist the tentative look he slanted my way. Hopping off the window seat, I tugged my jeans straight and nodded.

"Where to?"

He led the way, obviously already having decided where he wanted to look.

"The basement."

So, have I mentioned that I hate basements? This one was typical horror movie material, with creaky stairs that had no backing, so that the psycho killer could hamstring you as you came down. The walls were damp and stony and the lights flickered every once in a while as I eased down the stairs, following Derek.

"Any bodies?" I'd meant it as a joke, but he sniffed and then shook his head.

"All clear on the dead people."

"Dead animals?" I'd discovered that with him, it was best to be specific.

He looked briefly over his shoulder, giving me a hand down the last couple of semi-rotted steps. "Maybe a dead rat or two…or ten."

I took a shaky breath but stepped off the stairs onto the cement floor.

"Roger that. No summoning then."

We wandered around the perimeter of the basement first, Derek playing a flashlight over the walls and floor as we went. Nothing interesting came to light, just stacks upon stacks of boxes that had accumulated a solid inch of dust. I stopped in front of one extremely tall pile and stretched up on my toes to brush the dust aside, trying to read the smudged words.

"What are you looking at?" Derek was a few feet away, stooping to read a label on another couple of boxes.

"I dunno, but it looks interesting." I reached for the box, balancing precariously on my toes. He looked over and straightened.

"Here, let me-"

The box stuck a little, so I put some muscle into my yank and it slid free, but I teetered and the whole stack began to topple towards me.

"_Oomph!_"

Looking around a little dazed, wondering who had said that, I realized it had been the air rushing out of my lungs as Derek tackled me to the floor. The huge pile of boxes towered in a pyramid over us, pinning him on top of me, where he'd thrown himself to keep me from getting crushed.

We stared stupidly at each other for a second, then I began to panic, worried about his spine and his legs which had taken the impact of over a dozen weighty boxes. Bracing my hands against his chest I started wriggling free, words spilling out as I clawed awkwardly at the ground.

"Oh, my God. Derek, are you ok?"

"Stop moving," he hissed in my ear. I ignored him and continued fighting against his weight, hoping that if I could get myself out from under him I'd be able to get the fallen boxes off of his lower body. But Derek was heavy and those damn boxes were heavier and no matter how much I struggled, I couldn't do more than shift myself around from side to side.

Derek had lapsed into some incoherent mumbling, so I was pretty surprised when he grabbed onto either side of my head with his hands, staring at me imploring.

"Chloe, please, you've got to stop," he gasped, and I realized he might be hurt and my moving might be making it worse. _Number one rule of spinal traumas_, I recited to myself, _do NOT move the victim until you have a backboard_.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?" I asked in a rush, craning to the side to see if any of the boxes had landed directly on his spine. We needed some help. He didn't answer, so I asked him again, panic making my voice rise. "Derek? Are you ok?"

"I'm not hurt," was all he said. I sighed with relief and realized that if I braced my heels, I might be able to scoot myself out from under him. "I said no. I mean it, Chloe. Don't even _think_ about it."

If we hadn't been stuck, I would have laughed at the way his voice rose. Instead, I glared at him, his face so close I could barely focus my eyes. What was his problem?

I decided to ignore him and when I pushed from my heels I managed to slide up a few inches, my face now almost level with his. I squirmed a bit but realized that I had moved as much as I could. Derek swore softly near my ear and I frowned at him even as I was impressed by the creative way he had for stringing words together. I tried one more time to get free and managed one more little shift just as he tried to twist away from me and as our bodies aligned like two puzzle pieces fitting into place, I realized why he had been asking me to stop.

I have never been so grateful for darkness in my life. I'm sure my face was glowing like a beacon and I was fighting the most ridiculous urge to giggle hysterically like my friends and I had used to do – ok, fine, still did – every time a teacher talked about _Homo Erectus_.

"Are you going to stop moving now?" he asked, his voice husky with frustration.

Not trusting myself to not start stuttering wildly, I just nodded, knowing he could see me in the dim light. His forearms were braced on either side of my head and he dropped his head down onto one of them, his breathing a little uneven.

"Jesus _Christ_, Chloe. Don't you _ever_ listen?"

We just stayed like that for a few moments. Now that I knew why he had been telling me to stop moving, I had no intention of so much as flexing my foot unless he asked me to. Eventually he lifted his head and I felt his muscles tense as he tried to move. No luck. He sighed in defeat.

I looked around the basement, at the stack of boxes I had managed to bring down on us. I had to agree with that sentiment.

"You ok?" he asked.

"I'm ok."

Footsteps echoed in the hall overhead. "Do I look like a messenger?" I heard Tori gripe as she stomped through the hall. "Chloe!" she bellowed, "Where are you? You're late to meet Margaret!"

"Tori? Tori! We're stuck in the basement," I hollered back, wincing in apology as Derek recoiled with a hiss after I yelled right in his ear. Tori was my last choice to come and help us right now, especially considering our…interesting position, but it's not like I had a whole selection of saviours to choose from.

Her footsteps thud-thudded down the basement stairs and I hiked my head up to peer over Derek's shoulder as she spotted us under the boxes.

"Wow," she chuckled, ambling over. "This is really too good to be true."

"It's not what it looks like," I hurried to say. Derek rolled his eyes and I remembered that he hadn't bothered saying anything about the crawlspace or hallway incidents either.

Her little grin was little too knowing for my taste. "No, of course not. Maybe I should just head back and send Simon to come and rescue you," she said thoughtfully, taking a couple of steps back towards the stairs.

"You could, but it'd be the last thing you do before running for your life," Derek said evenly, his eyes narrowed. Her grin didn't falter, but she sighed in defeat and came back willingly enough.

"Yeah, yeah, tear me limb from limb," she added, tugging at the top-most box that was jammed worse than the others. "I was just offering not to ruin your fun."

She pulled that one box free, and that was all it took to make a difference for Derek. He heaved upwards and the constraining boxes fell harmlessly to the sides. He stayed just long enough to help me up and then he disappeared up the stairs like the hounds of hell were after him.

Tori looked at me appraisingly. "So what was that all about?" she asked.

"Why does everyone think there's something going on?" I asked plaintively, brushing dirt off my jeans. She snorted and plucked a cobweb off my shoulder.

"Honestly. You're really don't get it, do you?"

But the problem was that I did get it, I just hadn't figured out what to do with it yet…


	13. Kill the Beast!

**A/N: So sorry for the long delay in getting this up! I promise I have good reasons, one of which is why I'm hurrying right now...it's late and my eyes are closing on their own, so please ignore typos. :D Good news for those of you who like these one-shots; my cousin has finally consented (thanks!) to do a multi-chapter fic with me, so hopefully we'll be seeing some chapters going up soon, yay!**

**So the setting for this little beauty is at the safe house during The Reckoning, just a little bit of Chloe anger. :D Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I can wish that I was Kelley Armstrong and that I owned Darkest Powers, but I'm not and I don't. Life's a bitch. And then you die.

Andrew intercepted me with my foot still on the first step.

"Chloe, could I talk to you for a minute?" I hate questions that aren't really a question.

I abandoned my intentions of talking a walk, released the banister and followed him into the dim and musty-smelling library he had taken as a sort of office. He shifted some old files and a cordless phone off a visitor's armchair for me. I let myself sink into the ratty old thing. If you ignored the cloud of dust that rose, it was actually pretty comfortable.

The heavy-armed leather captain's chair sighed gustily as Andrew seated himself and plucked up a pen to twirl in his fingers. "So how are you doing?"

I thought that was a stupid question; I was warm, fed and wearing clean clothes for the first time in too long. "Good, thanks." He seemed to be expecting me to say more. I cleared my throat and crossed my legs. "It's very nice here." _Lame, Chloe_.

When he still didn't say anything I shifted to the edge of my seat. Maybe if I didn't look like I was planning on staying he'd get on with this. "Was there something in particular you wanted to know?"

He gave me a knowing smile. "I'm that obvious, huh?" I thought it would be rude to nod, so I settled for a noncommittal smile. "You're right." He leaned forward now, linking his fingers together loosely, "I wanted to talk to you about Derek." His tone told me exactly where this was headed.

_There's something truly terrible inside_

_It's a beast_

_He's got fangs_

_Razor sharp ones_

_Massive paws_

_Killer claws for the feast_

_Hear him roar_

_See him foam_

_But we're not coming home_

_'Til he's dead_

_Good and dead_

_Kill the Beast! _- The Mob Song (Beauty and Beast)

"Gaston, no!" I whispered under my breath, wishing this was some really terrible joke. Funny, most days I couldn't remember what I ate for breakfast, but I could remember that song from a cartoon I hadn't seen in years.

"Do you know anything about werewolves?"

I buried the sarcastic response that had jumped to my lips. "I didn't know they existed until I came across Derek Changing," I answered truthfully, itching to throw the stapler at him, business end first. _What's happening to me?_ I wondered idly, surprised at myself.

Andrew fidgeted uncomfortably. "I see. Well, from what I've been able to find out over the years, werewolves are incredibly dangerous individuals."

_Only to incredibly stupid people,_ I thought nastily. Tori would be proud. When I didn't answer, he continued.

"The gene that causes lycanthropic manifestations is found only on the Y chromosome," he lectured, seeming to take comfort in facts. How ironic. I could name someone who had that in common with him. Take a wild guess.

"So only males can be born werewolves?" I asked, dredging up what felt like ancient memories from Biology.

He nodded, pleased that I was following. "Exactly. When a werewolf is interested in passing down his genes, he will, well-"

I refused to help him with this. He was the one who had insisted on this stupid conversation.

"Suffice it to say that he impregnates a human female," he said in a rush, his ruddy cheeks darkening a little. "He may or may not stay around through the pregnancy, but if the baby that is born is a male, he will take it and vanish, raising the boy to know what he is and what will happen when he comes of age."

"I see," I said, but I didn't see at all. What was the purpose of this? Andrew just stared at me. "So…Derek didn't have anyone to tell him what to expect?"

With a frustrated sigh, Andrew shook his head. "Well, yes, but that wasn't my point. You see, Chloe, the werewolf instinct is truly the wild instinct one would find in a wolf. They can't be expected to act with the reasoning a human would show." He paused, trying, I think, to see if I was on board with this. I must be getting better at hiding my thoughts, because he continued. "Human laws and common decency don't mean anything to them. Many of the mutts that the Pack keeps tabs on are known criminals in the human world, and the ones that aren't known to police are lawless men who wouldn't think twice about raping, stealing and generally pushing the boundaries of violence as far as they can without drawing Clayton's attention."

"Liam," I whispered, the toxic blend of fury and terror rising in my throat again. I shuddered. "You think Derek is like that?" The fury started to win out and I was surprised I didn't start to stutter.

He blinked a few times and I saw his gaze dart to two pictures lying off to the side of the desk. They showed a younger Simon, his cheerful smile showing a missing front tooth and Derek, both maybe seven or eight years old. Derek was looking solemnly at the camera, his eyes cautious even then. I don't know if Andrew realized he had reached to touch them until he had straightened them. He snatched his hand back and looked at me seriously.

"I don't know. No one knows how much of the behavior is learned and how much is innate."

"Nature versus nurture," I said, terminology I remembered from Ethics. Amazing what I had so quickly forgotten from my pre-raising-dead-things life.

"Yes."

It was my turn to lean forward intently. "Why are you telling me this? Why not Simon? Or Derek?"

"It's pretty clear to me that Derek has no interest in Victoria, to say the least, and a marked preference for you. I want to make sure that you knew about this in case anything happens." He pushed out of the chair and paced to a shelf, carefully aligning several spines. "Do you understand what I'm saying here?"

"You think Derek might rape someone?" I remembered the standoff with Liam and Ramon in the park, how horrified he had been. It took an effort, but I resisted the urge to yell. "I know you haven't seen them since they were much younger, but I can promise you that I'm in far more danger from Tori than I am from Derek." It was a little odd discussing this with a complete stranger, but I couldn't let this go without saying something. "Derek has saved all of us, more times than I think any of us really want to think about. He's still the same person you knew, Mr. Carson. We'd be dead or with the Edison Group if it wasn't for him."

I decided that I'd let him stew on that. I wanted to be angry with him, to defend Derek against this prejudice that everyone laid against him, but I had to grudgingly admit that Andrew was just trying to look out for all of us. I had seen something when he looked at the pictures that made me think that the thought of Derek being capable of that depravity had truly hurt him. I made sure to close the door quietly on my way out.

After my carefully executed exit, I tripped over something invisible in the hall and staggered wildly around the corner of the staircase and into the kitchen.

Simon looked up from his task of building an open-faced sandwich. Derek didn't.

"Hey, you. Nice entrance."

"I like drama, what can I say?" Simon chuckled at my flippant tone.

"Would the drama queen like a tuna melt?"

I nodded and nabbed a stool on the other side of the black granite slab that covered the island and propped my chin in my hands while I supervised my sandwich being made. "What happened to the movie?"

The can opener buzzed, and I realized that Simon was studying my face. "It's on pause. Derek was hungry and I needed to eat, too. Is everything ok? Sounded like Andrew was giving you shit."

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach when I realized that if Simon had heard our voices…Derek studiously avoided my gaze and slid the cookie sheet of sandwiches under the broiler.

"We were discussing nature versus nurture." Eyeing the container of milk, I decided some would be nice with my lunch. I started to slide off the stool to get a glass when one appeared in front of me. Derek left his hand on it even when I closed my fingers around it, waiting for me to look at him.

Simon chattered in the background about these chicken-or-the-egg theories. Derek studied me with a faintly puzzled look, and I don't know if he found what he was looking for. Either way, he let the glass go and I poured the milk while trying to answer a question from Simon, who hadn't noticed our silent exchange.

Derek retreated quietly to crouch down and babysit the sandwiches, and Simon leaned on the other side of the counter and made some pretty good arguments about nurture being more important than biology. I didn't feel like getting into again, so I mostly nodded.

The cheese melted quickly under the intense heat of the broiler, and soon Derek was sliding a couple of slices of bread onto a plate. Simon carried it ceremoniously around the counter and bowed.

"This isn't scrambled eggs, but I'm pretty sure eternal servitude covers tuna melts, too." He grinned at me and I had to laugh as I took the plate. We ate in silence for a few minutes, all of us enjoying the hot food that didn't come from a fast food restaurant or a shiny foil wrapper.

I heard footsteps cross the hall from the family room.

"Smells good." Tori poked her head in, saw food and helped herself to a sandwich.

"Come and sit here," I offered, climbing down with my empty plate. "I'm done."

After she was settled, I ended up staying in the kitchen, getting drawn into a conversation about the graphic novel.

"You're making a graphic novel about this whole mess?" Tori seemed surprised.

"I thought it would be interesting to see our story from a different perspective," Simon said defensively.

"That's really awesome. Is there an omniscient narrator?" she asked, obviously intrigued by the idea. Simon launched into an animated diatribe about the effects of different narration styles in comics. I watched like a spectator at a tennis match, my head swiveling as Tori got into describing a new computer program that would "learn" the artist's drawing style and would work with them to create a digital database of images that could be manipulated, instead of having to manually draw and scan all the work.

"That's amazing. Can I try it out somewhere for free?"

She nodded, swallowing her last mouthful before speaking. "Yeah, I can show you the website."

I started collecting plates, but Derek took them from me. "I'll clean up. You guys go check out the software."

"I'll help you," I offered. Simon flashed me a disappointed glance, but the idea of the software was too tempting, and he followed Tori back to the family room and the vast glory of the Internet.

I started rinsing the dishes, handing them to Derek who stuck them in the dishwasher. I waited for him to say something about what he must have overheard. Supersensory hearing must really suck sometimes.

"Andrew's right."

I fumbled the cookie sheet, but caught it before it crashed into the sink.

"You must be joking." I stared at him incredulously. He closed the dishwasher carefully and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You don't know anything about mutts," he said. "I'm pretty sure Liam and Ramon are closer to the norm than anything else."

"Aren't you offended?" I scrubbed fiercely at a baked-on piece of cheese. "How can you even compare yourself to them?"

"I almost killed that other kid. I almost killed that girl. I left bruises on you, Chloe." His self-hatred scared me and I shut the tap off with an impatient slap of my hand. This was more important than the stupid cookie sheet. "I'm capable of anything."

I planted myself in front of him and glared up at his shuttered eyes. "Ok. Prove it."

"What?"

"Prove that you're capable of anything. I'm standing right here. You heard what Andrew said. Do your worst."

He looked so shocked that I nearly laughed, except this wasn't funny at all.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious." I shoved him, hard. "Hurt me." He tried to move away, but I trapped him in the corner by the dishwasher. "I'm serious. Hit me. Bite me. Tear me limb from limb." Ok, maybe a little too dramatic, but I was trying to make a point.

"Stop it." I knew I was playing with fire; as much as I trusted Derek, it was still risky to goad him like this. "Dammit, Chloe, _stop_."

Feet planted, I shoved him again and got right up into his face. "Make me."

He stood, hands clenching by his sides.

"I'm upsetting you, aren't I? You won't even shove me out of your way?" I taunted, praying that I was doing the right thing by pushing him like this.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said without thinking, looking edgily for an escape route.

"Ah."

"That doesn't mean anything." He scowled briefly down at me. "I've still hurt people before."

"Yeah, a guy that pulled a knife on your brother and a girl that pulled a knife on me." I crossed my arms, refusing to allow his self-hatred anymore. Apparently I had a really low tolerance for bullshit today.

He reached suddenly for my arm and yanked up the sleeve of my sweater. Faint yellowish bruises still showed where he had grabbed me. "And these? Where was the knife that day?" He was nearly shaking my own arm under my nose.

I rolled my eyes. "You didn't grab me with the intention of flinging me across the room. It's a bruise, not a shattered ulna."

"You won't give up, will you?"

"Nope. Listen to me. No, don't stare at the wall, look at me." I waited until his eyes met mine. It took a while. "You are a good brother. You are a good son. You are a good friend. You heard what I said before. Without you, we'd be in danger or dead."

Green eyes searched mine intently. He was genuinely confused. "Why are you so determined to make me into some nice person?"

"You've gotten such a crap deal for so long, and I'm getting sick of it. We're in this together. You deserve to be protected, too." He hadn't let go of my wrist, so my arm was still hanging in mid-air between us, but I looked around it. "You deserve to be treated like a human being."

"About damn time," Simon seconded from the doorway. He sauntered in, his eyes solemn as he looked at his brother. "What did Andrew say?" He directed the question at me, even though his intent gaze never left Derek.

I took a deep breath, hoping to head off the stuttering that accompanies my lies, but Simon flicked his eyes at me sharply. "Tell me the truth."

Sighing, I gave Derek some breathing room and went back to the sink. "H-h-he thought Derek might be c-capable of hurting people."

Simon dogged my heels, hovering behind me. "The rest of it, too, Chloe. I'm not stupid."

Fuck. "He said that I shouldn't be alone with him in case he rapes me. Happy now?" I snatched up the steel wool and scrubbed the cookie sheet furiously.

"_What?_"

Simon's explosion wasn't a request for clarification. I rubbed harder at the spot, the scratching sound very loud in the silent kitchen.

"What did you say?"

"I told him the truth," I said simply, my calm tone at odds with my angry movements.

Derek took advantage of the moment and disappeared into the hall without a word. I gave up and just left the sheet to soak, drying my hands. Simon stood next to me, tense lines drawn around his mouth.

"I can't protect him," he said suddenly, his eyes beseeching. "My whole life he's watched over me and I can't even protect him from someone we used to consider family."

"Simon-"

"I can't find our dad, either." He took a shuddering breath, and I touched his arm, offering what little comfort I could. We were all worried about our parents, wondering what would be left of our lives when this was over. At times like this there wasn't much that could be said.


	14. The Birds and the Bees

**A/N: I know, I know, I've been gone a while, but since I'm posting the first chapter of my collaborative multi-fic, I figured I really should post something here, since you guys'll know I have no excuse! :P So this is a light little one-shot, set post-Reckoning at one of the rental houses. I recently found a story that has a similar theme (from browniehaze), SORRY, no infringement intended, this has been wandering around my folder for a while because I felt it needed a lot of fixing up. Hopefully my version's different enough that no one's offended. Please read and enjoy! And to all those of you who I have so badly neglected to thank for the last couple of chapters, here you go: THANK YOUs go out to Darkestpowerslover234, JamieKayHuntt, ReadingInTheDark, emilymurphy, EmoTacoFilling,MorbidMandy, moon-called-princess, not-so-innocent011, Silverbird121, smilin'intherain, Anastasia815, dimitriandrosehathaway, and Lifestyle. If there's anyone I've missed, I apologize, and if you PM me, I'll fix my mistake immediately.  
**

Disclaimer: My name isn't Kelley Armstrong and I'd consider myself insanely lucky if I owned this series. I don't, in case I hadn't made that abundantly clear by now...

* * *

Kit sat down with us in the living room, and I noticed that he seemed a little uncomfortable. I wondered briefly if he was bothered by how I was tucked up cosily in Derek's lap, but then Aunt Lauren came in, closing the door behind her. Tori and Simon lifted their heads from their laptop and comic book respectively, and I saw that resemblance again in the nearly identical quizzical looks they had.

"We need to talk to you," Aunt Lauren said, getting comfortable on the sofa next to Kit. Nothing surprising there. We'd have a group discussion at least once a week to plan our next moves, so this was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Ok," Simon said agreeably. "About what?"

"Well, I think it's time to revisit a conversation that we had a little while ago," Kit began, "you know, about safe-"

"Dad, no!" Derek groaned, covering his face with the hand that wasn't keeping me on his lap; I was trying to slip off so that I could make a break for the door, but he was having none of it.

Tori looked intrigued and – damn her – amused. "Safe sex, huh?" she asked, shooting a sly grin in my direction. "I think that's an excellent idea."

Aunt Lauren was nodding in agreement with her, even as Kit had to threaten a binding spell on Simon if he tried to leave.

"No, Dad, c'mon, not the sex talk," he begged piteously, every exposed inch of skin blushing bright red. "Not again."

I wondered how bad it had been the first time to provoke that kind of response and decided I was better off not knowing. Derek's arm tightened as I tried to move onto the sofa next to him. A green eye peeked out from between his fingers.

"And where are you going?" he murmured.

Struggling with my own dread of the parental sex talk – in front of Simon and Tori, no less – I narrowed my eyes as I glared at him. "I really don't want to be perched on your lap while having this conversation."

His chest lifted and fell with a silent laugh. "You're not going anywhere. I might need someone to hide behind."

Apparently none of us were going anywhere until Kit and Aunt Lauren were satisfied that we knew enough to not run out and have wild, unprotected sex in the woods while on the run from Cabals and killer scientists.

Four hundred lifetimes later, when they were done, we all staggered out of the living room in various stages of shock and embarrassment. Derek, as always, seemed to take everything in stride, and after his initial complaint, was more or less composed.

Simon looked like he needed a drink, and I'm not talking about Gatorade. He kept rubbing his hands over his face and shuddering, muttering to himself about "sex" and "Dads" and how the two should never, ever be related to each other, _ever_.

Tori just seemed amused and kept directing her little grins in my direction, which did not help with the full-body blush that I was currently contending with. The blush was courtesy of Aunt Lauren's discussion about how she'd made appointments for both Tori and I to get on birth control pills and then later, her extremely direct comment to the guys on making sure their partners had orgasms, too.

"Are you alright?" Derek asked, eyeing my forearms with concern; they were as red as my face.

I couldn't speak without bursting into hysterical giggles or possibly tears, so I tightened my lips and nodded.

Simon looked up from his pathetic mumbling and came over. "Chloe? You ok?" He looked at Derek. "She looks like she's going to cry."

That, of course, brought everyone running. Now, as much as I appreciate having a family, I do not love how everyone is all into everybody else's business.

"Chloe, hon?" Aunt Lauren touched my cheek. "Everything ok?"

The laughter bubbled up and I fought it, pressing my knuckles hard against my lips which made my eyes water. Derek started freaking out and was practically ready to beat an answer out of me by the time I couldn't hold it in anymore and I started to laugh.

"S-s-sorry," I choked, gasping for breath in between peals of laughter. Tori started laughing at me, which broke the stunned silence, and Simon grinned as he started cracking up, too.

Kit chuckled a little, but he was laughing at us laughing. "What's so funny?"

I waved my hand between us. "This. G-getting the sex talk. Simon's face…" I trailed off, overcome. Derek was rooted to the spot, confusion warring with amusement. Beckoning him closer, I leaned into him as I gasped for breath, which seemed to placate him, and he ducked down to reach my ear.

"Just be glad he didn't bring out the condoms this time."

"Oh, damn!" Kit exclaimed, searching his pockets. "I had condoms, too, so you guys could practice-"

That did it. Aunt Lauren let out a whoop of laughter and staggered over to a kitchen chair. She laughed harder, pointing to the counter, where someone, presumably Kit, had left four bananas in a neat pile. That did it. It was a while before anyone was able to do anything other than gasp helplessly with laughter.

Simon swiped at his streaming eyes with the hem of his t-shirt, doubled over in pain as he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. Even Tori's eyes were bright with laughter, the darker shadows gone for the moment. Kit tossed the bright red packets onto the table and shrugged helplessly as our combined hilarity finally got the best of him, too.

My face pressed into Derek's chest as he chuckled. "That's new. Last time he just pulled out the condoms and then we got to make water balloons."

"How old were you?"

"Twelve. We weren't really interested in their other potential use at that point." He grinned. "They make _great _water balloons."

My naughty side took over as I pulled away and stared up at him with mock horror. "Well, here I was hoping you'd know what to do with them! What are we going to do?"

I would have needed a camera to do justice to the expression on his face, a combination of surprise, panic and intrigue. Tori flung a condom package at us with a "Get a room," tossed after it. Derek caught it one-handed without looking and threw it back at her. It bounced off Simon's arm and he grabbed it before she could, reading the fine print on the foil.

"Dad, you got the wrong ones." He wiped his eyes again and studied the writing at close range. "Derek can't use these. They're regular, not extra-small." And with a wicked grin, he threw the packet back at Derek who not only fumbled it, but dropped it and then nearly knocked me flying when he launched himself at Simon.

Kit sighed, but it was a contented sound as he watched Derek tackle Simon – carefully, always carefully – and get him in a headlock. Aunt Lauren looked concerned and opened her mouth to say something to them, but Kit shook his head.

"They're fine. Simon needs to have some sense of self-preservation beaten into him every once in a while." I agreed.

Tori and I righted the chairs that Derek had plowed through and settled at the table with the adults. Simon scrabbled for traction, but his shoeless feet kept sliding as Derek hauled him through the kitchen door and out into the yard.

"It was a joke," Simon yelled, getting an arm free and wrenching Derek's t-shirt up and over his head, trying to trap his arms. He used his brother's moment of blindness to trip him and slip out of his grasp. "You're so sensitive!"

The shredded t-shirt hit the ground and Derek dove at Simon again. I grinned, watching through the window. A sensitive Derek. Now that was an image. Another image superimposed itself over that one, an image pertaining to my not-completely-joking comment to Derek and I swore as all the progress I had made in dispelling my blush was ruined, especially since the guy in question was currently wrestling shirtless in front of me.

Tori saw my expression and tracked my eyes to the yard. "It's not fair," she commented, eyeing Derek. "He eats like a horse and looks that good without trying."

I was a little surprised when my first instinct was to growl at her. _Too much time around Derek_, I reasoned, amused at my reaction. The two of us would make a fine pair at this rate, wandering around randomly snarling at people who dared check out the other.

I had a feeling I'd be doing a lot more snarling if he ever stopped wearing his clothes a couple of sizes too big. But for the moment, I leaned against the window frame and watched my ridiculously ripped boyfriend toss his howling brother around the yard, and smiled. Life definitely has its moments.


	15. Dreams Don't Always Come True

**A/N: Greetings earthlings! So I've been having trouble finding time for writing lately since I'm working full time for the summer, but I felt bad about not having anything to post, that I took all my lunch hours for the past week and used them to scribble up this little one-shot for y'all. :) PLEASE don't totally spazz out on me at how it starts...you HAVE to read it to the end, and I PROMISE you, you won't regret it! I even shed a tear or two in the lunchroom while working on this, so hopefully my public humiliation was worth it! Please enjoy and review if you have anything to say. Thanks!**

**NOTE: This is probably one of the only times I will ever write something in Derek POV, because I really struggle with his voice, but please let me know if you think I totally bungled it, or if I managed to get it halfway right because I'd like to know for future stories. Gracias. **

Disclaimer: I'm not Kelley Armstrong, I don't own Darkest Powers and I don't make any money from this, unless you count that dream from the other night...

* * *

(Derek's POV)

It was hot for the end of September. Too hot. Between a body temperature that normally runs a little high and the heavy coat of fur I sport several times a week, I'm getting desperate for the crisp nights of fall.

I could have been home, comfortable in my air-conditioned apartment but, like the fool that I am, I was waiting in a shadowy recess, anxious to make sure all was well, like I do most nights. Some people watch sitcoms, some people lurk in the shadows guarding their families. I say to each his own.

Simon was watching t.v. in the minimalist living room, bare feet propped on the coffee table as he finished off his beer. He checked his watch and did a double take and I saw his eyes fly up to check the clock on the wall. Good, he'd finally noticed. Chloe was late.

The crunching gravel announced her arrival seconds later, and I was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. The engine cut and a door slammed before more gravel crunched under her shoes as she made her way up to the front door.

"Hey, babe." Simon had heard the car, too, stepping out onto the broad flagstone porch. "You're home late." A lop-sided grin. "I missed you."

She made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. "Yeah, we lost power for two hours and we had to make it up or else we'd be even more behind schedule." Her bag flopped onto the stones as she walked into his arms and rested her forehead on his chest with a tired sigh. "I missed you, too. I'm so glad to be home."

They stood there for a moment in each other's arms and I felt like the sick bastard that I am. It's been years since I had my chance with Chloe, and like an idiot, I'd shoved her at Simon and run like hell away from the only woman who's ever looked at me and actually seen me, and liked what she'd seen. I'd pushed the two of them together one time too many and finally something had clicked and my chance had passed me by.

My brother and his…wife (God, I hate that word) are living examples of why you should be careful what you wish for.

Finally, Chloe broke away. "I'm starved. Anything left from dinner?"

Simon laughed, hooking an arm around her waist as he stooped to grab her bag and usher her inside. "There's plenty. Derek was over, but I finally managed to order more than even he could eat."

"Oh, Derek was over?" Their voices were muffled by the door closing.

I stood guard until I'd made sure the door was locked.

_Simon's happy,_ I reminded myself firmly as I crept away and found a good spot to Change. It didn't take much coaxing anymore, and I looked forward to the blinding pain with a hunger that scared me. _Chloe's happy. This _is_ what you wanted. Isn't it?_

After the agony came some peace. Life was so much simpler on four legs. The hot air was still stuffy but no longer intolerable and the faint stirrings of the wind brought denser, more concentrated scents.

Something small and swift snapped a few twigs a bit deeper in the woods and I turned, ears pricking, the thrill of the hunt speeding up my heart rate. _Rabbit_.

I turned to give the house one last check, unhappy to be leaving my mate inside with another male. Reasoning with the wolf part of me is absolutely impossible, so I just let the thoughts pass through me without trying to put forth my logical, well-thought-out arguments that get me nowhere.

Chloe was backlit at the front window, frowning as she stared out into the darkness. What was she doing there? A short howl broke out of me before I could stop it, a summons to my mate. She started and pressed her palm against the glass as she strained to see. I had to rein in my urge to…what? Ring the doorbell with my tail and fight Simon for her?

The wolf was all for it but the instinct to claim Chloe as mine wasn't stronger than the instinct to protect my Pack. Simon was Pack. Hurting him was out of the question, as was having Chloe. The wolf harrumphed but accepted it. _For now_. I let a mournful howl echo through the woods, then I whirled and stretched my legs to their limits as I disappeared into the haven of the forest.

A few weeks passed by with me doing my usual nightly patrols. My training regimen over the years had definitely paid off; I was now able to manage a Change every other night and in under five minutes. Changing so often definitely helped keep my temper in check, but mostly I did it as a preventative measure; if my Pack ever needed defending I had to be in peak fighting shape. No one was getting to Chloe, Dad or Simon (oh, fine, Tori, too) if it was the last thing I did.

Chloe was on back patio tonight, reading a hefty book in the faint light. It had rained for a week and I think we were both enjoying the lower temperatures without the accompanying dampness.

"Luuuuuuuucy, I'm home!" Simon shouted from the front hall. It took an effort not to roll my eyes. His Cuban accent could use a little work.

"Out back." She laid the book aside and tilted her head back for a kiss when he joined her.

"I'm gonna go get changed," he murmured against her mouth. "Want to come watch?"

She laughed. "I'd rather help."

Jesus. I needed to get out of here. _Now_.

They dashed inside, laughing like crazy people as Chloe pretended to chase Simon up the stairs while he threatened to report her for sexual harassment. The bile rose in my throat and choked me with its bitter sting. The kisses and casual embraces and their happy home I could manage – barely - but this was too much.

The night she'd gone for ice cream with Simon all those years ago, their first date, I'd confronted her and she'd told me what my damnably perceptive brother had said when he'd kissed her. If I hadn't laughed at her, told her I wasn't interested and never would be, maybe I'd be the one running up the stairs with her now, laughing with her and loving her- _stop_. I couldn't change what I'd said. I'd sent her running back to Simon and I'd smiled at their wedding as the best man five years later. I had no one to blame but myself.

Rain began to fall and I got ready to make a dash for my car, hidden in a spot nearby that I used on the nights I didn't Change and needed a ride home. Just before I left, though, I spotted Chloe's book, pages darkening where the water spattered them. Damn. She would hate to find it ruined in the morning.

I eased up to the patio cautiously, one eye on the bedroom window, reading to run like hell if I saw so much as a flicker of movement. Chloe seemed to have an uncanny ability to sense when I was around. I grabbed the weighty book off the table and jogged to the patio doors to leave it under the overhang. Hopefully she wouldn't notice that her books had started growing legs and walking themselves out of the rain.

The pages flopped closed as I laid it down and the title literally stopped my heart. The wave of animal fury that ripped through me kick-started the Change and I barely made it out of sight before I was incapacitated by pain. The wolf ripped free, howling in mingled fury and anguish as I forced my shaking muscles into action and sprinted for the woods, hoping to find oblivion.

The animal part of me should have known by the scent, but the human part of me had suppressed that knowledge until the title of the book brought it all crashing down. _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ could only mean one thing.

Game over.

I nearly dumped poor Chloe onto the floor as I flailed awake. I'd bought us a king size bed so she'd always have plenty of room to sleep, since I tend to sprawl but she's always suckered up to me on my side no matter how much room there was on hers. Like I'd complain. I slept better with her in my arms, anyways.

"Derek, shh, shh, it's ok," she murmured sleepily, pulling herself back over to me, reaching up to stoke my face. I caught her hand and turned my face into her touch, inhaling her familiar scent with a shattering sense of relief. My hands were shaking.

"Another nightmare?" No pity in her tone, just a question. When you've seen and done what we've seen and done, nightmares come at no extra charge.

She was visible to me even in the deep darkness of our bedroom, her nightgown a pale cloud around her.

"Something like that." Chloe married to Simon and pregnant with their child? The word nightmare didn't even come close to describing that.

She stroked my cheek slowly as she eased me back down and settled with her head pillowed on my stomach, watching me even though her bright blue eyes couldn't see me. Her long fair hair beckoned me and I twisted a lock around my fingers then combed it back from her temple, trying to calm my racing heart. She didn't push me to tell her about it, but waited patiently, knowing that I'd tell her when I'd calmed down. It makes it less horrible, telling someone else about the awful scenes your subconscious constructs for you some nights.

"You-" I had to clear my tight throat and start over. Twice. "You were married to Simon."

"Hmm."

"You were pregnant." It sounded so innocuous when I said it like that, especially when the woman in question had been sleeping with her leg thrown across mine while I had been dreaming of her making a life with my brother.

"I see." A small, warm hand closed around one of mine and laid it against the gentle swell of her belly where our baby grew. "Well, I could be mistaken, but I'm pretty sure this isn't Simon's," she said seriously. Trust her to know how to make the awfulness of my dream shrink away.

"Only pretty sure?"

A quiet laugh came from her as I rubbed slow circles over where I could hear the rapid chugging of a tiny heart. Then she bit her lip and frowned in pretended thought.

"Well, there was that swinger party a few months back…"

Even though I knew she was teasing (honestly, could you picture Chloe at a swinger party? She still stuttered when I came out of the shower without a towel on) the wolf sent up a low growl.

"You're not as funny as you think you are. Actually," I lunged and twisted, pulling her under me as I tickled her, "I don't remember a swinger party, but I _do_ remember that blue dress-"

"Derek!" she gasped, breathless with laughter as she batted at my hands. "Stop or I'll have to pee!"

I relented, leaning in to brush my lips over that spot behind her ear. "And the garter belt-" My hand stroked her leg. "And that other thing, the…corset thingy." I walked my fingers up the swell of her belly.

"Bustier," she whispered, her hands running lightly over my shoulders.

A groan. "Yeah. _Loved_ that thing."

"Loved it so much you shredded it." A smile touched her lips. "Derek?"

"Mm?" Couldn't she see I was very busy trying to figure out the buttons or zipper or whatever fastenings that kept the skimpy lacy thing she was wearing together? Chloe called it a nightgown and Tori had called it lingerie. I call any sort of sleepwear unnecessary, but Chloe seems to like the flimsy things, which means she'd probably be irritated if I destroyed yet another one. Damn.

"Derek." Her hands slid up my neck and cradled my face, forcing my eyes to meet hers. "You know it's always been you, right?"

My heart stuttered as my throat closed at her question. "Yeah."

Her eyes shifted over to her left hand, her engagement and wedding rings glowing faintly even in the dark. "I'm _your_ wife," she said quietly. Her rounded belly pressed up into mine. "This is _our_ baby."

I lowered my lips to meet hers, nodding. The wolf was all puffed up with pride, like he always was whenever he thought of the pup. _Baby_, I corrected myself distractedly.

When I lifted my head, Chloe's eyes were swimming with tears. She'd been embarrassed at first by her general weepiness, especially since I used to panic at the sight of tears. But after five months, I was an old pro at not freaking out over them, so I just rested my forehead against hers and enjoyed the tender moment. A smile lifted her lips even as the tears began making silvery tracks down her temples.

"And you're _my_ husband," she whispered fiercely, pulling me down for another kiss that carried the tang of tears, and not just hers.

I nodded again, hearing our baby's heart beating steadily alongside Chloe's and I thought that there must be a God after all.

"Always, Chloe," I murmured. "Always."


	16. The Family Joke

It was sure to be the family joke until I died. I could almost hear Simon now, at every family gathering, re-telling the old story of how Chloe wanted Derek to look after her so badly that she threw herself down a flight of stairs.

Of course he'd leave out the details that he dismissed as "unimportant", like the fact that during my fall I'd broken my femur which is incredibly painful and takes forever to heal, and that my fall was more because I was trying to push Tori out of the way of a spell than a deep-rooted desire to be babied for weeks by Derek.

But that didn't stop Derek from growling at Simon, or Kit from biting the inside of his cheek to hide his smile as he and Aunt Lauren lectured Simon while Tori laughed at his discomfiture. And where was I for all this? After getting my leg set by a shaman at a supernatural clinic under a false name, I decided I'd had enough of my family for the day and popped a pain pill. Bye-bye family squabbles, hello happy land. I fell asleep with a blissful smile on my face.

When I woke up, Derek was easing me out of the car.

"Where are we?" I mumbled, completely disoriented but still happily pain-free for the moment.

"We're back at the motel." He carried me through the front doors and down the hall to the "girls'" room as Tori went ahead to unlock the door. Derek carried me into the umpteenth bland room we'd stayed in and laid me carefully on the bed as Aunt Lauren fussed with pillows, getting my leg propped up and fluffing up more to stuff behind my back.

"I'm fine," I yawned. "Just a little thirsty though." My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Derek, bless him, was already coming back from the fridge with a bottle of water in hand, easily twisting off the evil cap that never failed to splatter me if I attempted to open it on my own.

"Thank you," I mouthed, gratefully downing half the bottle in a long swallow.

Tori hopped onto her bed and crossed her legs, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. "So she can't walk?" she asked Aunt Lauren. Derek rolled his eyes at her and came to sit on the foot of my bed, careful not to jostle me.

"No thanks to you," he muttered."

Aunt Lauren sighed. "Don't you two start, please. And, no, Tori. In a couple of weeks the cast can be changed for something a little less…well-"

"Mummy-like?" I quipped, eyeing the white bandages that encased my left leg up to my hip.

"Sure. For now, though, Tori and I will take turns being on call."

"On call for what?" Derek asked as he took the empty bottle and brought me a second one without waiting for me to ask.

"For everything," she replied. "Books, magazines, you name it, we'll bring it. You're officially on bed rest for the next couple of weeks, kiddo."

Tori sighed, but then her brown eyes widened. "Wait! Chloe, you can't walk a_t all_?"

"Nope," I replied cheerfully. Wow. These were some fantastic drugs. I giggled. I was as high as a kite. Derek noted my glazed eyes and a little smile touched his lips before it fled at Tori's next comment.

"Lauren, I'm not doing bathroom runs."

Aunt Lauren sighed again. "Yes, Tori, I know. I'll take care of helping Chloe to the bathroom." She eyed the second empty water bottle I was placing in Derek's outstretched hand. "And I'm guessing you'll be ready for one of those pretty soon."

I shrugged apologetically, the buzz from the painkillers keeping me from embarrassment. "Sorry. I'm really thirsty."

"Side effect from the pills," she said absently, listening as Derek stooped to murmur something to her. Her eyes widened and she wrenched her head around to glare at him. "What?"

He stood his ground, arms crossed, which did interesting things to his biceps, I noted with a little titter. God. I really _was_ stoned. Chloe Saunders doesn't titter. Ever.

"I said that I'll take care of her," he said loudly enough for Tori and I to hear.

Aunt Lauren sputtered, cheeks reddening. "Derek, don't be ridiculous!"

_Wrong argument_, I thought, a little uncomfortable with the idea, but not really bothered by it. After all, I had seen Derek at his worst; helping me to and from the bathroom and fetching magazines didn't sound as bad as watching someone's bones re-arrange themselves while spewing vomit everywhere. He was getting off easy, the lucky bum.

He cleared his throat and used what I called his "you're wrong but I'll try to tell you that nicely instead of saying you're stupid" voice. "Actually, Lauren, it's more ridiculous for you and Tori to look after Chloe alone. You're either going to hurt yourselves or her trying to lift her or move her."

Eyebrows lowering, Aunt Lauren matched his glower. "I can take care of Chloe very well without your help-"

He waved a hand to brush off her protest. "Of course you can take care of her," he said impatiently. "But you're going to have trouble lifting her."

I scowled, my amusement at their back-and-forth argument while I sat right over here gone. "Are you calling me fat?"

He actually rolled his eyes at me as Tori snorted with laughter. "You're stoned on pain meds, right now. Of course I'm not calling you fat."

Tori cleared her throat. "Lauren, as much as it pains me to admit it, wolfie's got a point. He lugs her around like she's his teddy bear already. There's no way he'd drop her. I can't say that I wouldn't."

"But…" We all waited for Aunt Lauren's comeback, but after looking at me, she shook her head. "Fine, as long as Chloe's alright with it."

I nodded, which made the room spin. I was clutching my head with both hands as the bedroom door opened to admit Kit and Simon.

"Derek giving you migraines again?" Simon asked, grinning. "You should've gone with me, love. Eternal servitude, remember?"

I rolled my eyes at him, which just made me dizzier. Stupid pain pill trippiness.

"Ok, so Derek'll stay in here with you ladies then?" Kit asked, leaning back against the closed door.

Tori groaned. "Fan-freaking-tastic. I've always wanted to wake up and find people doing it in the bed next to me."

Derek choked on his mouthful of water. Aunt Lauren nearly dislocated a vertebrae spinning around to pin him with an icy glare. "What?"

Simon let out a guffaw but shut up after Kit grabbed him by the ear. "Ow. Jeez, dad, I was just-"

"Uh huh," Kit said. "This is one of those times where you'd be better off being quite, buddy."

"Yes, sir." Kit let go of his ear with a resigned sigh and went over to pound Derek on the back.

"Honestly, Tori," he sighed, "I meant that this way Chloe just has to wake him up instead of waking Lauren up to ask her to go get him in our room." He added a semi-threatening whack to make his point. "That's _all_, right, bud?"

"Right," Derek wheezed and I cleared my throat. All eyes turned to me and I chose my words carefully, proud of the progress I've made lately with my stutter and not wanting to ruin that.

"Now that that's been settled, I could really use a bathroom break, please." Not a single blush or stutter after announcing to a roomful of people that I needed to pee. These pills were _awesome_.

After a long look between Derek and I, Aunt Lauren harrumphed quietly. "Of course, hon."

Simon winked at me as he opened the door. "Lauren, why don't you and Tori grab some cards or something and spend the afternoon in our room so Chloe can rest?"

Grabbing her laptop, Tori bee-lined for the door, fake-punching Simon in the stomach as she passed. He flinched and she laughed. "Sucker."

Aunt Lauren kissed my forehead and reluctantly let Kit usher her out. In the silence that was broken only by Derek's soft breathing, I let my eyes slide closed but then forced them back open.

"Pee now, sleep later," I muttered to myself, using my arms to shift towards the edge of the bed.

"Here, let me." Derek's arm slid carefully behind the backs of my thighs as his other arm curled around my back. Without even a tiny grunt of effort, he lifted me and manoeuvred my awkward cast around the bathroom doorframe.

Conveniently, the motel bathroom had a handrail next to the toilet, so Derek carefully lowered me to my un-broken right leg and waited until the head rush had passed before letting go.

"Can you manage from here?" he asked with his usual bluntness, but the tips of his ear were red. Silently thanking the heavens that I didn't need help shimmying my loose sweats and underwear down, I nodded.

But instead of leaving, he turned his back. What was he doing?

"Uh, Derek?"

"What?"

"You can't stay."

"Why not?"

It took an effort, but I restrained myself from bopping him with the toilet brush.

"Because I have to pee," I said slowly, like I was talking to a child.

He muttered something that I'm sure I'm better off not knowing and turned the faucet on full blast.

"There. Now I can't hear anything."

Yeah, right. Normal people wouldn't hear anything, but Mr. Bionic Ears over here definitely would.

"Derek…" I sighed.

"Chloe.." he replied evenly.

"I'll be fine. Can you just wait outside, please?"

"No."

"Derek." I felt him starting to cave. "Please?"

He grunted but left, closing the door behind him.

"Can you hear me now?" I whispered, barely able to hear myself over the rushing noise of the water.

"You know I can," he grumbled from beyond the door. "Now stop being such a baby and pee already."

"Cover your ears," I ordered, squirming. I really had to go.

"Jesus…Ok, they're covered." He sighed. "I'll hum, too, how's that?" He started humming the chorus to Daydream Believer, probably one of the only songs he knew the tune to.

Mushy feelings filled me and I smiled widely, alone in the bathroom. "I love you," I whispered, half-hoping he'd hear me. I hadn't gotten up the courage to say it to his face yet. No answer. "Derek?" Still nothing. Oh, well. This wasn't the best way to do the whole momentous declaration of love thing anyways.

So finally, to the tune of running water and my boyfriend's off-key rendition of Daydream Believer, I peed. Picturing this scene made me laugh, and when I finally knocked on the wall to call Derek back in, he found me still high on painkillers, weaving on my one good leg, clutching the handrail next to the toilet, convulsing with giggles. I must have looked like a total head case, and it says a lot about my werewolf that he only sighed, scooped me up, tucked me back into bed and curled up beside me until I fell asleep, still humming tunelessly to me. But that's Derek, you know?


	17. Orders

I climbed wearily, already fantasizing about my bed and how comfortable it would be in the lavender-scented darkness. When I got to the top of the stairs, I realized it wasn't as dark as it had been on the first floor because the light was still burning from under Derek's door.

What was he doing up? He hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in days and when we finally get to safety he stays up? I went up on my tippy-toes, wondering if he'd hear me. Creeping along as silently as I could, my fingertips brushing the heavy old wallpaper, I looped back around the banister and headed for his room.

I opened the door cautiously and peeked around. Derek was sitting with his legs drawn up, his forearms resting on his knees, in a chair he had pulled next to the window. The cool night air rushed to meet me in the doorway.

"I heard you even before you dropped the book," he said without even looking towards me. A little quirk at the corner of his mouth. "Nice try, though."

The door closed quietly when I pushed it and I ventured further into the room. "Why are you still up?" The cold air wrapped around me and I shivered, the hairs on my arms rising. I crossed my arms over my chest as an afterthought. Thanks to puberty my arm hairs were no longer the only things that reacted to the cold.

He looked over, and I guessed I was forgiven for earlier. "I can't relax enough to sleep. It's like I'm on overdrive."

Without asking, I snagged a sweater from the bed and casually slipped it on as I turned around to clamber up onto the high mattress. _Nipple situation solved_, I thought triumphantly and settled with my legs crossed.

"Well, you've been protecting us since we left," I reasoned. "But you need to rest up now, while you can."

"Don't you think I'm working on it?" he asked grimly, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. He looked exhausted.

"You won't feel sleepy freezing in that chair. Now, close the window and come lie down."

With a look that I can only describe as outraged, he glared at me from under his lashes. "Chloe…" he said in a warning tone, drawing my name out.

I hopped off the bed, crossed the room and pulled the window closed before turning around to face him. "Get up."

"No," he said while crossing his arms, looking like a sulky child with awesome biceps.

I am usually a patient person, but not when I'm tired. Derek needed to get his rest before he collapsed from exhaustion. We _all_ needed to be in fighting form, and right now he was a danger to himself and us. I grabbed his arm with both hands and yanked. "Get into that bed _now_."

The ease with which he complied was actually pretty comical, but since I was on the verge of losing my temper, my amusement at the way he hustled in between those covers would have to wait. I stomped along behind him and hauled myself back up on the high bed, plopping next to his hip.

"Ok," I growled at him, some distant part of me howling with laughter at the contrast between my words and my tone, "now relax and sleep." He just stared at me, his eyes unreadable, then he stretched out and pulled the covers up, his eyes tracking me as I reached over and turned off the lamp.

The dark was really soothing and even the lingering chill was pleasant. As I calmed down I started humming a little to myself and I felt his body ease. _Finally_. His breathing grew slower and more regular and I found myself patterning my own to match his. After a few minutes I started to feel sleepy myself and I stretched out on top of the covers, only intending to stay a few more minutes to make sure he actually stayed in bed and slept.

"Chloe?" His voice was low and sleepy and I started to feel bad for ordering him around.

"Yeah?" I whispered, tucking my hand under my cheek, staring at the mountain he made under the covers.

"Thank you."

I bolted upright, straining to see his face in the dark, but I couldn't. I wanted to poke him and make him repeat himself - because I couldn't possibly have heard that right - but he was sound asleep.

It was easier than I thought to wait to make sure he was actually sleeping because my mind was playing his words back again and again. After almost a half hour, I stumbled back down the carpeted hall to collapse in my own bed, forcefully putting my questions out of my head.

As I dragged the quilt up my legs I realized I still had Derek's sweater and even though it'd take torture to make me admit aloud, I cuddled up in it and inhaled deeply as I let the dark wave of sleep slide over me. There was comfort in that.


End file.
